Chocolate Biscuits
by Snowy Winter Tales
Summary: The quirky sequel to Diary of a Red Head, in which Ginny pretends to be mature, everyone hates Harry, Ron is being a godawful plonker, and Malfoy doesn't know when not to pop in.
1. Of Very Ugly Fountains

**Chocolate Biscuits**

**Four years later**

**March 1st**

**Work**

_12:00 PM_

You honestly believe that Mum wouldn't find you in four years time and owl you to me?

I'd expected better of you.

Hiding in the attic, of all places.

_12:01 PM_

I faintly remember owling you to Dan, which would explain the mud on your cover, but then again, you deserve mud after what you did.

It's been _four years_.

_12:03 PM_

A lot of things have changed in four years.

Like my handwriting, for instance.

I no longer cross my Ts.

They look so pretty uncrossed.

_12:06 PM_

I'm hungry.

_12:10 PM_

'Weasley.'

'Oh _Merlin_ no.'

Malfoy became Head of the Charms Department.

_Malfoy._

I was doomed the moment I realised I had to work at the Ministry for a year to help pay for my Healer training, and even more doomed when I realised that I had to go to Malfoy and convince him that I would be the best to be his secretary out of a record of 1567 witches that applied for the job.

'Most people would've sacked you for that,' Malfoy says smoothly, leaning against the doorpost. 'You can thank –'

'I thought I'd done your report already,' I interrupted, annoyed, glaring up at him through my fringe.

_12:11 PM_

Oh! I have a fringe now.

It's pretty.

Luna recommended I did it, really, and though I don't trust most things that come out of Luna's mouth, she was having a rather clear moment then.

Well, she did hug the begonias later on, claiming several Wossies were in there, but that was after she'd cut my hair.

_12:12 PM_

'Weasley?'

There was suddenly a large face hovering in front of mine, and I jumped back in my chair.

_12:13 PM_

It's a sport, jumping in chairs.

I'd like to see _you_ try.

_12:14 PM_

'Weasley?' Malfoy said again, looking thoroughly amused.

'I hate you,' I replied calmly. 'What's the matter?'

'It's lunch, Weasley.'

_12:15 PM_

What's with the Weasley all the time?

_12:16 PM_

'I gathered, _Malfoy_.'

_12:17 PM_

Hee, I'm so witty.

_12:18 PM_

'Then why aren't you down there with Potter and the He-Weasley, enjoying a nice cup of tea and a chat?'

I froze.

Er, I hadn't seen Harry properly in about three years.

Sure, there were the Weasley Christmas parties, and the occasional Weasley wedding (Charlie, Percy (who would want to marry Percy, anyway?) and Bill had now gone off and married someone) where I had a clear view of Harry, but he always managed to make some horribly vague excuse and then he'd leave.

_12:19 PM_

_Three years._

He's awful.

I _hate_ Harry.

_12:21 PM_

Realising Malfoy probably didn't know about the whole Harry-avoids-Ginny-at-Weasley-gatherings business, I looked up at him with a glare, fully prepared to tell him to mind his own business.

'I don't like tea.'

_12:22 PM_

I've yet to teach my mouth to work at the same time as my mind.

Four years of my mind shouting 'NO, DON'T!' haven't paid off the slightest.

Bloody mouth.

_12:23 PM_

Malfoy smirked.

Bastard.

'Weasley,' he said smartly, 'I didn't think you were the one to pass up some quality time with the Boy Who Lived To Annoy Everyone At The Ministry, since you are dating, and all.'

'I'm not dating him,' I said, angrily, and Malfoy quirked one eyebrow.

'You're not?'

'Deaf, too?' I prompted, and Malfoy let out a long, suffering sigh.

'Weasley, it's lunch. If you're not gone in ten minutes, I will eat your hat.'

'You – what?'

_12:25 PM_

I could've sworn Malfoy said 'I will eat your hat'.

_12:26 PM_

I don't even _own_ a hat.

_12:27 PM_

'Why would you want to eat my hat?' I asked, flabbergasted.

'Eat your –' Malfoy started, then burst out laughing. 'I'm not even coming _near_ your hat, Weasley, that's disgusting. Just go and eat lunch.'

And he was gone.

_12:29 PM_

Since Malfoy's not eating my hat, what did he say?

_12:34 PM_

'WEASLEY!' Malfoy shouted.

I nearly fell out of my chair.

_12:35 PM_

Does he have to be so _loud?_

I mean, it's only a flimsy wall that's between us, not half a Quidditch Pitch.

_12:36 PM_

'WEASLEY!'

'I'm going! Going! Look, threshold, meet Ginny Weasley's left foot!'

This only prompted another 'WEASLEY!' and I shouted back 'MALFOY!' and it took a while before Malfoy had enough of the shouting back and forth and threatened to sack me if I went on like this.

_12:37 PM_

He says that about four times a day.

It's getting a bit old.

_12:38 PM_

Anyway.

I left Malfoy alone after that, and took the lift down to the Hall.

Out of all the Weasleys, I was the only one who still worked at the Ministry. Dad had retired several ages ago, and Percy still sauntered in now and then, but was really too busy doing Things Percy Does to work here permanently.

Fred and George still have their joke shop, Bill's managed to start living in France with Fleur, Charlie's probably doing dragons again –

_12:39 PM_

Ew, not _that_ sort of doing.

You are still disgusting.

_12:40 PM_

And Ron plays professional Quidditch for the Cannons. He's really the best Keeper they've had in ages, and he keeps sending me loads of tickets to their games.

I appreciate it, really.

That Seeker of theirs is ad –

_12:45 PM_

Not watching where I was going, I ran head first into the fountain, and successfully drenched myself.

'Bloody fountain,' I said loudly, attracting the attention of several by-passers.

_12:47 PM_

Apparently, someone toppling into the fountain isn't any shock to the Ministry.

_12:48 PM_

I think it should be.

That thing that's supposedly a house-elf is horrible enough.

But maybe, you get used to its ugliness after a while.

_12:49 PM_

Aw, poor house-elf.

_12:50 PM_

I patted the elf's ear, muttering, 'It's all right,' when there was an amused laugh from my right side. I spun around (splashing more water onto the ground) angrily, but my mouth sort of stopped working.

Ron and Harry stood there at the entrance; it was Ron who was laughing his head off, of course. Harry merely flushed, but bit his lip to stop himself from laughing.

'Oh, go on,' I said, rolling my eyes, and Harry lost it. I managed to get out of the fountain (I swear those coins are magical) in the end, with some help of Zacharias Smith, who happened to be passing.

'Thanks, Zacharias,' I said and he waved his wand. My robes were instantly dry, and I gave him a grateful smile. I suddenly realised Ron and Harry had both stopped laughing.

'I'll see you later, then,' I told Zacharias, and he flashed me one of his infamous grins (the boy was awful, he had half the Charms Department after him) before leaving.

'What are you two doing at the Ministry, anyway?'

'We were going to visit Neville,' Harry answered.

_12:53 PM_

Oh, sure, you visit _Neville Longbottom_ every once in a while, I wanted to say, but refrained, breathing out softly through my nose.

So Harry didn't like me.

I could get over that.

I mean, it's not like I love him, or anything.

_12:54 PM_

Well, I do, but that's beside the point, because he doesn't love _me_.

It's really no fun being all alone in the Love Department.

The walls are pink.

It gets rather depressing.

_12:55 PM_

'Great,' I managed, stepping aside. 'He's probably in his office, doing that report on the Mimblus Whatsits.'

Ron, still a bit red in the face from laughing, patted my hair and disappeared in search of the lifts. Harry stood still where he was, looking at everything and anything but me.

'Harry?'

'Ginny, there's something I want to –'

My heart fluttered insanely for a moment, but I managed to tone it down a bit.

'You'll be late,' I cut him off, coldly. 'The lifts are over there, it's the fourth level.' Harry looked like he wanted to say something else, but he shook his head, then offered me a smile. 'Thanks, Gin,' he said, before striding off after Ron.

_12:56 PM_

I hate Harry.

I _hate hate hate hate hate hate _Harry.

* * *

**Author's Note: **Uhm. Look, a window!


	2. Of Doxies in Kitchen Cupboards

**Chocolate Biscuits**

**March 2nd**

**Ngh**

_6:00 AM_

Hmhsleep.

_6:01 AM_

SUN, GO 'WAY.

_6:03 AM_

Sun still not going away.

_6:05 AM_

_Prat._

_6:06 AM_

'Can you go and be so bloody bright somewhere else?' I manage, quite loudly and eloquently, and I hear muffled laughter coming from down the hall.

'Sarah, make the sun go AWAY!'

_6:10 AM_

Sarah's my roommate.

She's completely brilliant.

She works at some shop somewhere near Diagon Alley (that she's very secretive about), and has loads of dark curly hair that sort of _bounces_ when she walks.

_6:11 AM_

I want bouncy hair, damnit.

_6:12 AM_

Anyway, Sarah's older than me by a year and a half, and I'm quite fond of her.

Only not now, when she stands in the door opening of my bedroom, all prim and proper when it's an ungodly hour and she should at least have the decency to look ungodly at an ungodly hour, because it's in the _rules_ –

_6:13 AM_

'Gin, come on, get up, you have to be gone by seven.'

'Sun,' I say accusingly, pointing at the bright light that is happily filtering through my flower-y curtains (mistake, mistake, _mistake_ – must never let Hermione pick out curtains again).

'Oh, come on,' she says, and with a lazy flick of her wrist, half the covers are gone.

'Sarah!' I whine, but she's having none of it. 'It's nearing six thirty, and if you want to be gone by seven, you have to get up now. Malfoy _will_ fire you if you keep on being late for work.'

'Sod Malfoy,' I say, feeling for the covers. 'Don't like him, anyway.'

'Why, thank you, Weasley.'

Tell me I just imagined that.

'_Weasley_.'

_6:19 AM_

Oh, Merlin's fluffy knickers.

_6:20 AM_

When I look up from my pillow, Sarah is standing in front of me, hiding me effectively from sight, wand pointed at Malfoy's chest.

'Have you no sense of timing whatsoever?' I demand, sitting up, and Malfoy only smirks, looking strangely perfect, as well.

_6:21 AM_

Sodding people looking so sodding perfect in the sodding morning should _go away and die_.

_6:22 AM_

'What are you doing here?' Sarah enquires politely.

'Just came to fetch Weasley. We're having an early staff meeting.'

'You could've knocked,' Sarah says, and Malfoy shrugs. 'Knocked, and there was no answer, only a lot of shouting about someone making something go away.'

I flushed, but Sarah replied with a, 'Oh, yes, that was me. I think there's a nest of Doxies in one of the kitchen cupboards, but I'm not too sure.' Suddenly, as if struck by an idea, she added, 'But you're very good at charms, aren't you?'

Malfoy merely raises an eyebrow. 'You can help me get rid of them, then,' Sarah presses on, and before Malfoy can protest, she's given him a shove out of the room. 'Thank you,' I mouth, and she merely grins at me.

_6:50 AM_

I took a quick shower, and changed into my Ministry robes. There are some strange noises coming from the kitchen, and I nervously try to flatten my hair as I come near it.

'Aren't there?' Sarah asks innocently, and I see Malfoy's face tightens as he replies, 'I can safely say there are no Doxies in _any_ of your kitchen cupboards.'

'That's a relief, I must say.'

'Morning,' I exclaim happily, stepping into the kitchen. Malfoy starts, and knocks over one of the large mugs on the kitchen counter.

Sarah's lips tighten disapprovingly, and Malfoy has the decency to look ashamed as I say, 'Breaking things, are you?'

The cup is mended in a second, and Malfoy refuses to acknowledge my presence as I grin broadly at him, giving Sarah a little wave before Disapparating.

_6:55 AM_

The road to the Ministry is a bit crowded, and it isn't long before I spot Zacharias' slightly messy hair in-between all the awfully coloured Ministry robes (each department has their own colour, ours is yellow and blue). 'Zacharias!' I say, and he turns around.

'Morning,' he says politely, and I ask him if he knew about the meeting. 'Meeting?' he repeats thoughtfully, and for one dreadful moment I think Malfoy only woke me up to get me to work early, but then he says, 'Oh, bugger, that was today, yeah.'

'What's it about?'

'Reckon it's the development of those Containment Charms,' Zacharias replies, and I nod. Mostly, it's about the Containment Charms; we've been at it for weeks.

_6:56 AM_

Well, the department has been at it for weeks.

I just sit and glare at Malfoy when he makes me take notes by hand.

_6:57 AM_

Speaking of Malfoy, where is he?

_7:03 AM_

Still no Malfoy.

_7:04 AM_

Oh, maybe he splinched himself!

_7:15 AM_

'Weasley.'

_Bugger. _

'Weasley, you're _late_.'

'Am not!' I reply, and across me, Sabrina hides a grin.

_7:16 AM_

Sabrina's Malfoy's right hand, so to speak. She was a Ravenclaw when she was still at Hogwarts, and she sometimes randomly sprouts Latin no one understands, except Malfoy, _of course_.

_7:17 AM_

'I woke you up at a quarter past six, Weasley - ('Oh!' Sabrina says, interested) – you're supposed to be at work by seven.'

'It _is_ seven.'

'It's a quarter past seven,' Malfoy informs me, haughtily, and I glare at him. 'That's till near seven, isn't it?'

Sabrina clears her throat. 'Let's start the meeting, Draco.'

_7:21 AM_

Someone in the Malfoy family is mental.

Draco?

What sort of absurd name is that?

_7:22 AM_

'Yes, _Draco_, let's start the meeting,' I imitate under my breath, and Malfoy narrows his eyes at me.

'What? What did I do?'

_7:35 AM_

Meeting is boring.

_7:52 AM_

Yep, still boring.

_9:00 AM_

I understand the Containment Charms are very important and whatnot, but we've been here since _seven_.

Some people have to eat, you know.

_9:10 AM_

Oh, for goodness –

'The wand movement is very complicated; we have to figure out a way to –'

'–breakfast!' I call loudly, and the majority of the room looks relieved.

'Weasley,' Malfoy says crossly, but I bounce up. 'Last down has to treat the rest of the department!'

'– SACKED!'

Malfoy is saying, but no one really pays attention to him.

_9:40 AM_

Hee, Malfoy has to pay for breakfast.

_10:20 AM_

I'm really busy.

There's three reports I have to finish; there are at least a dozen owls fluttering about my office, demanding an answer (if that brown one pecks me one more time, I swear I'll bite); Malfoy's strolling in and out of the office hastily, quill stuck behind his ear; Sabrina flutters in every now and then, saying things like, 'chapter three' and Malfoy will swear and go back into his office and, really, it's _busy_.

_10:40 AM_

It's not even a _nice_ sort of busy.

It's an if-you-don't-finish-your-work-there-will-be-more-and-more-until-you-drown-in-papers sort of busy.

_10:41 AM_

Yes, that's a sort of busy.

Honestly.

_11:00 AM_

'Malfoy,' I knock, and barge into his office, carrying the report in my hand. 'I think there's something wrong with section four, it's –'

I freeze mid-sentence.

Malfoy is sitting in his chair, talking to the fireplace. That, in itself, is not unusual; it's just the person he's talking to that's a bit unusual.

It's Harry.

_My_ Harry.

_11:02 AM_

Well, he's not _my_ Harry, obviously, but just in case you were confused, there are some Harry's floundering about the Ministry, so yeah.

_11:04 AM_

'Potter, come off your stupid arse every once in a while and –'

'That's not very convincing, Malfoy, it's just I'm very busy –'

'Doing what?' Malfoy sneered.

_11:06 AM_

Good point.

No one really knows what Harry gets up to these days.

_11:08 AM_

'Doing something that's none of your business,' Harry replied coldly, and I reckon this is the right time to clear my throat very obviously, before someone sees me and then it'll end up being my fault.

It doesn't work.

_11:09 AM_

Idiots.

I work with idiots.

_11:10 AM_

Clearing my throat again doesn't help, so I opt for shouting.

'MALFOY!'

That makes Malfoy start, and he turns around. Harry cranes his neck to look at me, as well, but I pretend not to notice him.

'Someone mucked up section four of the report during the meeting,' I say, waving said report around, and Malfoy stands up, frowning, and holding out his hand.

'What?' I demand, and not missing the point this time (such a fast learner, him), he stands up and walks over to where I'm standing.

'Look,' I say, pushing the report under his nose.

Harry clears his throat, and Malfoy turns to face him.

'We're not done yet, Potter.'

'I have other things to do. Gin –'

I freeze, but he only says, 'Say hi to your mum for me,' and I nod mutely as he disappears out of sight.

'You're really not dating him,' Malfoy observes, and I whack him sharply on the nose with the report.

He swears loudly in French, and clutches his nose.

'Serves you right,' I say, and he glares at me. 'What do I have to do about the report?' I ask, and for a moment, Malfoy wavers, then says, 'Leave it here, I'll correct it.'

'No,' I say stubbornly. 'You were busy. Just let me change it and I'll leave you alone.'

'Weasley.' His tone lacks its usual loathing, and I frown. 'Give me the report.'

'Fine,' I say, resigned, and hand it over.

He smiles at me.

_11:21 AM_

What is he smiling at me for?

He's _engaged_ to Pansy Parkinson.

He can go smile at her all day, that idiot.

_11:23 AM_

'You're smiling,' I blurt, rather idiotically, and he rolls his eyes.

'Just have it done before five,' I add quickly. 'I have to leave, then.'

'But you're done at six, officially.'

'I have permission.'

'From who? I'm the head of the department!'

'That's none of your business!'

'WEASLEY!'

'It's not!' I say, pointedly, and step out of his office.

* * *

**Author's Note: **This chapter is dedicated to the other Sarah, who is brilliant and funny and knows full well I'm very good at keeping my promises, even if it's very early in the morning. And to Sabs, who unknowingly let me borrow her name for a character.

Thanks to everyone who reviewed, you all made me grin like some sort of idiot! Oh, and a special thanks to Jade Summers and Tooki for both complimenting me in the Bridget Jones department, which is completely brilliant.

Now, if you'll excuse me, I have to prevent Resentment from jumping out of the window...


	3. Of Horrible Days

**Chocolate Biscuits**

**Still 2nd of March**

**Office**

_5:03 PM_

This – this – _this is not **on**_.

_5:04 PM_

There are papers.

_5:06 PM_

Don't mind papers too much, as they're very quiet and un-annoying objects, but I _do _mind them when they place themselves on my desk at the very moment I have to leave.

_5:08 PM_

I don't bother to knock this time; I just storm into Malfoy's office, my coat half-on, half-off, hanging lopsidedly over my robes (I must look idiotic – not that I care).

'Malfoy,' I manage, dropping my bag to the floor as I lean forward, 'there are papers. _On_ my desk.'

'That's generally where papers are in the Ministry, Weasley. On desks.'

_5:09 PM_

Oh, how exceptionally _witty_.

_5:10 PM_

I let out an annoyed sigh.

'Malfoy, I have to leave now.'

'Leave?' he says, looking up from his desk, his reading glasses lying discarded (it's quite the sight, Malfoy in glasses. It's really fun to point them out and laugh, because it annoys him) atop an oddly placed book.

_5:12 PM_

_Exploring Muggle Asia_?

What, is Malfoy planning a holiday?

_5:14 PM_

'Yes, leave. It means that I'm going away. It means that there will be no more Ginny Weasley in the Ministry starting now. I'll be here again tomorrow.'

He rolls his eyes, drawling, 'You can't leave, Weasley,' haughtily.

'Yes, I can,' I retort.

'You haven't got _permission_.'

'I have too!'

'You haven't got mine.'

'Sod off; I don't need your permission!'

Malfoy stands up and raises himself to full height, which meant he's towering over me.

_5:17 PM_

I reckon he thinks it's quite scary.

It's not, actually.

Bill's taller.

_5:18 PM_

'I'm the Head of the Department, Weasley. What makes you think a secretary like you can decide to leave early without asking my permission?'

'You should mind your own business!' I snap.

_5:20 PM_

It was a bit slow, yeah, but my mouth finally said what my mind had intended to say two days ago.

There are _happy_ feelings.

Well, mixed with angry feelings.

_5:22 PM_

That, apparently, wasn't the wisest thing to say.

Suddenly, Malfoy does look a bit scary. His eyes are narrowing, and he's glaring at me.

'Weasley,' he says, and it almost sounds like a threat.

'It's not,' I insist. 'Besides, if you're so hung up about it, you should tell Sabrina not to give permission to secretaries like me.'

'Sabrina?'

The scary and menacing Malfoy is instantly replaced with Malfoy, the Idiot.

'She gave you permission?'

'She's Deputy Head, Malfoy. Don't tell me she needs to ask your permission to give her permission to someone else.'

'She doesn't –'

'Don't care, not hearing you, going now, take care of the papers on my desk, yeah?' I say promptly, pulling on the rest of my coat and patting his hand.

_5:24 PM_

Ew, ew, I touched Malfoy's _hand_.

_5:26 PM_

As I'm about to turn, I spot an elegant glass vase filled with green powder. I glance at the fireplace, and then grin at Malfoy. 'Oh, thanks so much for offering.'

He looks a bit surprised, but when I grab a handful of Floo Powder, he starts to look faintly alarmed. 'There's no need for that,' I tell him, as I throw it into the fireplace. 'I'll only be in there a second – The Burrow!'

Malfoy's office spins out of sight, and I manage to keep it all together when the living room holds still. I stumble a bit and come face to face with Mum, who's sat in the chair across from me, already donning her large pink apron, wand in hand.

'You're _late_.'

'Mum – I didn't mean to, honest –'

There's a surprised, 'Gin?', then, and I look up, not daring to believe it.

Harry just came out of the backyard, glass in hand; followed by half the family (Ron looks shocked. Idiot). I'm about to open my mouth to retort, when the fireplace flares up again. 'That must be Percy,' Mum says, pushing me aside none-too-gently.

Fred manages the, '_Percy?' _everyone's thinking, but it's not a tousled-looking Percy who appears in the fireplace.

It's Malfoy.

_5:27 PM_

What's _Malfoy_ doing in _my_ house?

Apparently, I'm not the only one who's thinking that. From all over, wands are directly pointed at his chest, even Hermione's (how she manages to balance the book, glass, bottle, wand and her enormous belly all at once, no one really wants to know).

'Ah, Malfoy, hello,' Dad says pleasantly, as if there isn't a former Death Eater standing in the middle of his living room.

'Evening,' Malfoy says stiffly, before wordlessly handing me my purse.

_5:29 PM_

Well.

Well.

I would've forgotten it, wouldn't I?

_5:30 PM_

Please tell me Malfoy was not just intentionally nice.

_5:31 PM_

That's absurd.

Malfoy?

You should have your head checked, suggesting things like that. What if I had believed you, eh?

_5:32 PM_

'Weasley,' he says, and there's a loud chorus of replies, varying from 'What?', 'Piss off!', 'Malfoy?' to my stiff 'Yes?'; Malfoy looks pained for a moment, then says, 'Don't be late tomorrow. And I expect those papers done first thing tomorrow.'

He's already stepped back into the fireplace before I can properly hex him.

Damn him.

_5:33 PM_

'Such a horrible boy,' Mum says, and I stare at her. She pretends not to notice as she stands up, brushing off her apron.

'Come along then, Ginny, you can help me with the rest of dinner.' I sigh warily. 'Mum, do I have to?'

Mum shoots me one of her Looks, and I reluctantly follow her into the kitchen. 'Er,' Harry says, as I walk past him, and I suddenly remember the conversation he had with Malfoy this morning.

'Wait, if you were going to show up, why did you ask me to say hi to my mum for you?' I demand, and he looks pained.

'I didn't mean to come –' he starts, but is interrupted by Ron, who punches his shoulder. 'Don't be a prat, Harry. You know Mum wants you to come over as much as you can.'

'Either way, I didn't mean to show up,' Harry says, glaring at Ron. 'Wouldn't have asked otherwise.'

'Why ask me, though, when Ron's place is nearer?'

He fidgets a bit. 'You were there.'

_5:35 PM_

Why did I ask him?

I always end up feeling like an idiot after Harry's talked to me.

I didn't used to.

Not for a while, at least.

It only started again after that whole You-Know-Who thing.

_5:37 PM_

'Ginny!' Mum calls, and I shake myself. 'Forget it,' I say to Harry, as I turn to follow Mum into the kitchen. I hear Harry sigh behind me and I turn around again. 'Why did you really?'

Ron and Hermione disappeared (probably up to Ron's room, doing things no one is interested in but themselves), so it's only us in the living room, and he swallows. 'I – I just miss you.'

Oh, he's _good_.

'You don't, Harry. You never have.'

'That's not true.'

_5:39 PM_

He's such a liar.

_5:41 PM_

'What, you were lying that time, too?'

'I was just trying to protect you!' Harry says, exasperated.

'Fat load of good that did.'

'Gin, you don't understand!'

I draw up to him. 'Don't I? I asked you, Harry. I asked, you, remember? And you said that I could bugger off, because you didn't care about me. And you've never bothered to change your opinion, you just avoided me.'

He's fallen silent.

'Just forget it. We'll be – somethings who know someones and it's fine that way. You don't have to pretend you miss me.'

'I'm not pretending,' he whispers, and I shake my head. 'Leave it, Harry. It's not worth it.'

_10:30 PM_

The Ministry is eerily quiet at this time of day; no one in their right mind would want to be out here this late. My desk is still as I left it: stacked with papers, a half-finished report lying haphazardly on my chair, large eagle quill in its inkwell.

I don't bother with taking off my coat when I sink into my chair after getting out the report. I glance at it once, then run a hand through my hair.

Best finish it, then.

_1:00 AM_

'Weasley?'

Why can't it be anyone but him?

'What?' I manage, hoarsely, behind the small stack of papers that is still left. 'Do I need to have permission to work here at night as well?'

'Weasley,' he says again, and I grab my quill angrily as I glare up at him. '_What_?'

'You're ... crying.'

'And?'

'I've never -' he starts awkwardly, and it's then I notice he's not dressed in his usual Ministry robes. He's dressed in some lighter robes, and his hair's messy.

It's scary.

'Well?' I say, standing up now. My chair toppled backwards, but I'm not really bothered to pick it up right now.

It takes a short while, but then he says, 'It's Potter, isn't it?'

I hadn't meant to, but when he says that name, I freeze. 'By Salazar, you still love him, don't you?'

'What's it to you, anyway? Why do you care?'

'Wea –'

'Get out. Go away.'

'This is my department, Weasley.'

'Fine, I'll leave,' I say, rushing past him, but he grabs my hand, and pulls me back. 'Stop loving him,' he says gently. 'Just – stop it.'

Angrily, I raise my hand, and I slap him across the face. The sound echoes back from the walls in the very quiet department, and he slowly lets go off my hand.

I've started shaking by the time he turns his head towards me, and there's an angry imprint on his left cheek. 'I'm sorry,' I say, emotionlessly, staring at the wall behind him, 'won't happen again, sir. The reports will be done first thing tomorrow.'

'Okay,' he replies, and I let out a choked sob in reply; I bite down on my lip roughly to stop any more sounds from coming out.

'Thank you,' I say to the horrible tapestry on the wall, tears slowly streaming down my cheeks, and when I turn and flee from the room, there's no mocking laughter that follows me down the hall.

* * *

**Author's Note: **Ginny reckons you lot need to stop loving Malfoy, because he's _not_ nice.

Thanks for all the reviews, they're all lovely and I enjoy reading them very much! Also, ne me quitte pas's sister, stop throwing water bottles. Flying water bottles are _very_ dangerous.

And to answer pinkythesnowman's question: Malfoy is engaged to Pansy Parkinson because they're both rich and snotty purebloods and their goal in life is to marry other rich and snotty purebloods. Logical, really.


	4. Of Ginny Stealers

**Chocolate Biscuits**

**March 14th**

**Home**

_4:00 PM_

Hermione's wedding is today.

_4:01 PM_

I _know_.

_4:02 PM_

'Oh god,' Hermione says, again, as she pulls on the upper part of her dress for the umpteenth time that hour.

'Hermione!' I moan disapprovingly, and smack her hands away. After a few pulls, the dress is in its rightful place, and I nod at the reflection in the mirror.

'I'm beginning to think I shouldn't marry him,' Hermione says, looking a bit on the green side, suddenly.

'I wholeheartedly agree,' I mutter, and she narrows her eyes at my reflection.

'Stop your fussing, dear,' Hermione's Nan says, and Hermione stills, biting down on her lower lip.

Hermione's Nan is a very small woman, with a kind, heart-shaped face and round brown eyes. She's knitting in the corner of the small room we're in, and the needles have finally stopped their clink-clinking.

'You look very handsome. I'm sure that Weabel –'

'Weasley,' Hermione corrects, and her Nan waves a half-finished sock around dismissively.

'– Weandy, then, will not change his mind about marrying you.'

'Nan?' Hermione asks, and it sounds a bit fragile.

'Yes?'

'I'm a bit – scared.'

Clink-clink, the needles go again. 'Well, I'm not too surprised. But you shouldn't be; he already loves you, and you're about to have his child. What's so scary about walking down an aisle?'

'I – I don't know.'

'Exactly. Here, have a chocolate. It soothes you.'

_4:05 PM_

Smart woman, Nan Granger.

Should've met her a long time ago.

_4:07 PM_

'Mum's right, Hermione,' Hermione's mum says from the door which, apparently, was open. Hermione glares at me some more, and I hide my face behind my bouquet of yellow roses.

'You look lovely. I'm sure Ron appreciates it very much.'

''Course he does,' I murmur. 'He's talked about nothing else for seven bloody weeks.'

There's a sharp rap of needles on my hand, and I squeak. 'Language, dear,' Hermione's Nan says, sternly.

_4:08 PM_

_Evil_ Nan Granger.

Don't like her.

Glad I haven't met her before.

_4:10 PM_

Hermione's colour has somewhat returned, and I flash her a grin. 'You deserve him. I'm glad you're happy after the whole – well, you know.'

Hermione's smile is genuine as she tears her gaze away from her reflection. 'Thanks, Gin.'

'Reckon you're up for it, then?' I prompt, and she nods, grabbing her own bouquet from the dresser.

'Yes.'

_4:11 PM_

_Finally!_

Merlin, I've been trying to get her to say that ever since two this afternoon!

_4:13 PM_

'I'll be right back, then.' And with a wink, I shuffle out of the door.

'FRED! OI, FRED!' I holler.

'WHAT?'

'WE'RE READY TO GO, NOW!'

There's a loud crash, and then Fred has appeared on the landing in front of me. 'Really?'

'Yes.'

'_Finally_ (here, I cuff him around the head). I'll go alert Mum.'

**Still March 14th**

**Somewhere, Mum's too bloody secretive**

_6:11 PM_

Well.

I mean, yes, they love each other and all that rot, but does the whole stuff around it have to be so bloody _long_?

_6:12 PM_

And there's the dinner table again, tempting me.

It's pure evil, putting up the dinner table directly behind the row of guests, so I can see it every time I attempt to look at the ceremony.

_6:13 PM_

Honestly, look at it!

It just screams 'Come here, Ginny, have a bit of my lovely food.'

_6:17 PM_

I can see a platter of chocolate biscuits.

Now, that's _completely _unfair.

_6:18 PM_

I bet Nan Granger did it.

_6:19 PM_

Harry's looking quite handsome in his black robes.

Ron's wearing a set of black robes as well (though his are a bit smudgy at the hem from standing in Mum's garden patch this morning, whereas Harry's are clean), and he's trying to not fall asleep at everything the Very Important Ministry Wizard is saying.

Hermione looks really pretty in her dress, though Mum has charmed a set of white robes around her shoulder to protect it against the rain that insists on falling down.

_6:21 PM_

They should've had a wedding in June.

I kept telling them that.

But does anyone listen to Ginny Weasley?

_Nooo,_ because they're too _good_ for that.

_6:24 PM_

Yes, they're rings; they go on fingers, Ron. And since Hermione's already holding hers out, what is your problem?

_6:26 PM_

Not you too, Hermione.

_6:30 PM_

'Blah blah blah Ministry Wizard blah blah blah Congratulations!' The Very Important Ministry Wizard says (we're doing the wedding proceedings of important witches and wizards through the Ministry now, Chang insists), and I sigh in relief.

'Go on!' one of Hermione's awful cousins shouts, 'It's tradition!'

_6:32 PM_

What is?

_6:35 PM_

Oh, _god, _I see Ron's _tongue_ -

_6:37 PM_

MY EYES!

THEY BURN!

_6:41 PM_

I throw my bouquet at Ron's back, calling, 'That's enough tradition!'

Harry laughs heartedly behind me, and I flash him a grin, before realising exactly whom I flashed what.

_6:43 PM_

Your dirty mind never ceases to shock me.

_6:45 PM_

Anyway.

Now that all the rambling is done, FOOD!

**Nope, still March 14th**

**Apparently, Ministry Ball Room #7345**

_7:45 PM_

Why did no one inform me that with the words "food" and "wedding" comes the word "dance"?

I can't dance.

_7:47 PM_

Let me rephrase that.

I _can_ dance, but I have no desire whatsoever to make an arse out of myself on the –

_7:49 PM_

Since when was there a dance floor here?

_7:51 PM_

'Dance with me?'

Zacharias is kneeling in front of me, and I drop my fork onto my lap in shock.

'Who invited you?' I say, before I realise that's probably not very polite. 'Er, I mean –'

Zacharias shakes his head, but smiles. 'That's fine. Hermione Granger did. She invited a lot of people from the Charms department.'

_7:52 PM_

I love Hermione.

_7:53 PM_

Zacharias is holding out his hand, one eyebrow raised, but I shake my head. 'I don't dance.'

'Oh, shut up,' he says, teasingly, and pulls me to my feet. I protest all the way to the dance floor (by god, it is even uglier when you're on it), but he's having none of it, putting his hand on my waist.

I glare up at him, blowing a part of my fringe out of my face angrily. There's some creaking in the right corner, but then a really whiny, slow song comes on (must be Celestina Warbeck, mum compiled half the list, while Hermione's mum did the other half).

'Come on, Ginny,' Zacharias says, looking quite smashing in his blue robes, and I sigh. Zacharias grins, and pulls me closer. Ron, who is attempting to dance with Hermione near us, glares as I rest my head on Zacharias' shoulder.

_7:54 PM_

Wait, I want to have one more go at your _what_?

Celestina Warbeck, you are a dirty little witch.

_7:55 PM_

Oh, apparently, she sings, "I want to have one more go at our love".

_7:57 PM_

'All right, enough,' I say, pulling back from him when the song comes to a dramatic end. Zacharias grins at me, but doesn't let me go. 'Come on, there's a good song on after this one.'

'Oh, no, you don't!' I pull back hastily, darting around him. The next song starts as I push my way around the dance floor (trying very hard not to notice Luna Lovegood and Harry, because one shouldn't get jealous of one's other best friend) and end up, miraculously, at the dinner table.

Now, that's a nice surprise.

I'll remember to thank Zacharias later.

_8:57 PM_

I reckon I'm beginning to become impressively smashed.

I'm quite sure there are a lot of pink elephants floating about Neville's head (why anyone would want Neville to be the person who serves drinks is beyond me), which is probably not a very good sign.

_8:58 PM_

I think I'll name that one Plum.

And that one will be Teawater.

_9:00 PM_

I've been thinking a lot about Malfoy, you know. And about what he said.

Had some dreams too, which were, frankly put, not of the best kind, and left Sarah to stare at me as I wandered into the kitchen for breakfast, my cheeks flushed.

_9:02 PM_

'S Malfoy, for Merlin's sake.

He's not supposed to come near my dreams.

I rather like my Malfoy-less dreams.

_9:07 PM_

'Weasley,' a strong voice appears at the table next to me, and I glance up. Apparently, Hermione couldn't politely refuse inviting Mr I-Have-A-Too-Big-Head-Zabini. He works with her at Thingamus Thing (forgot where Hermione works – this works quite well as a substitute), you see.

Don't really like him.

Poser.

'Zabini,' I say, feeling my head is starting to become heavy. 'How are you, then?'

'Been well,' Zabini grunts, and then glances at me. 'Say, Weasley, you all right?'

I don't really think I am. 'Me? Just fine, thank you.' And that's really all I remember before everything faded to black.

_**I have no idea what date it is**_

_**I don't know where I am, either**_

_I can safely say that there are question marks where the time is supposed to be AM_

'Mhm,' I say softly, sitting up. A bright, blue blanket slides softly downwards, and I see I'm still dressed in my cream-coloured wedding dress.

'So, you're awake.'

The voice sounds stern and deep, and I 'Mhm' again, though it sounds more like a sleepy moan.

Then, I realise that that voice was far too deep and stern to sound like anyone I know, and my eyes fly open. Zabini is sitting quietly in a chair next to the window, book on his lap.

_I reckon the question marks are multiplying AM_

Zabini – Zabini – Zabini _stole _me from Hermione and Ron's wedding!

How dare he?

_No idea whatsoever AM_

'What's going on?'

Zabini looks pained. 'You really should take better care of yourself, Weasley.'

_See above AM_

Zabini is a mean question-avoider.

And - and a Ginny-stealer!

_Not still reading this, are you? AM_

'You didn't answer my question,' I press, and he pinches the bridge of his nose.

'You had some problems at Granger's wedding, and I took you home.'

_It's raining AM_

What is it with stuffy purebloods saying 'problems', when you can just as easily say, 'completely pissed'?

_Zabini's eyes are blue AM_

'Home to where?'

'Home to my home,' he says stiffly, and I breathe out through my nose.

'Reckon that must've been a pain.'

'It was all right. I did it as a favour to Granger, more than anything.'

_Weren't they brown, to begin with? AM_

Zabini attempted to join the Order of the Phoenix in the same year Harry, Hermione and Ron left Hogwarts. I stress the word _attempted_, because the first two times, he was blatantly refused by Harry, who considered himself in charge. It was only after Hermione had gone to have a word with Zabini and Harry that the Order accepted him in. He turned out to be quite useful, in the end. Brilliant at wandwork, a knack for Ancient Runes, and through his mum, he had several useful contacts at the Ministry.

Though he's still a bit of a prat when it comes to blood matters.

He called Hermione 'mudblood' once, during a meeting; he's stopped doing that, needless to say, but according to Hermione, he's not very fond of any Cursebreakers that aren't pureblood. He's careful to say things around her, though, and that's all right.

_I don't like them blue, they look silly AM_

'Thanks,' I say quietly, and he nods at his own reflection in the window.

Zabini stands up. 'The bathroom's to your left. Come downstairs when you're done.'

It's more of an order than a question, and he stalks out of the room, robes flaring behind him.

_The mirror says it's two fifteen in the afternoon PM_

I took a shower, and brushed my hair. I transfigure (not a very good Ginny-stealer, Zabini is, he left my wand in my pocket) my dress into a less frilly one (I _bet_ Nan Granger picked my dress) and make my way downstairs.

_2:20 PM_

For all its grandeur, Zabini's house is easy to navigate around.

Then again, I've been here before.

_2:21 PM_

'Er,' I say, appearing in the doorway of the modest (not) Zabini kitchen. Zabini is delicately sipping his tea, and looks up at me. His eyes drop to my strapless grey dress, and I pull at it a bit unconsciously, but then there's a pop in one of the other rooms.

'Zabini, Pansy wants to know if you're – Weasley?'

From out of the living room, Malfoy appeared, and mid-sentence, he noticed me, still pulling at my dress. I'd turned around at his voice, and Zabini appears behind me. Suddenly, Malfoy looks a bit pale.

_2:23 PM_

Hee, maybe he's coming down with something.

_2:25 PM_

'Tell her Tuesday's good,' Zabini says to Malfoy, and I turn back to face him.

'Thanks, I – thank you,' I say firmly, and he shakes his head as if to say I shouldn't mention it. 'I'll just be going, then. Gloucestershire, wasn't it?'

Zabini nods, and I head towards the front door. It's rather large, and it takes me a second, but then it falls closed behind me with a loud 'thunk' and I'm rushing down the marble front steps of Zabini's mansion. When I've passed the gates, the house shimmers and disappears out of sight, suddenly.

_2:27 PM_

Oh, right, it was Unplottable.

_2:29 PM_

I reckon this corner is far away enough. I look around, but the street corner's deserted. I close my eyes, ready to Apparate, but then there's a pull on my wrist. My eyes pop open, and come face to face with Malfoy, who's breathing heavily.

'Malfoy? What are you –'

'You're –'

'About to become severely pissed off at you for not letting me Apparate home?' I supply, helpfully.

'Zabini –'

_Yes, _I think, annoyed.

'Zabini – and you're – are you – your dress is horrible.'

Somehow, I get the vague idea that's not what he was about to say.

'It's the work of Nan Granger,' I say promptly, and his eyebrows nearly disappear into his hair. 'Hermione's grandmother,' I clarify. 'You should've seen it a while ago, it was considerably frillier.'

'Right,' he says.

'Anything else you wanted?' I gesture obviously down to his hand, but he's biting his lip, and then he's looking up at me.

'Yes, there is, actually.'

Well, I want to ask, but I'm sort of lost for words.

* * *

**Author's Note: **See how good I am at updating quickly?

Thanks to all the wonderful people who left a review. This batch was (if possible) even more flattering and wonderful, and made me want to really write a chapter once I stopped blushing (Published? Ashen Rose Shadow, you're a dear). I am sorry it's not five at once, Gwen's-Faith, I did try.

Oh, and Ginny would love to come over for tea, Jade Summers. She does reckon there need to be chocolate biscuits somewhere, though. And, if possible, no Malfoy.


	5. Of Secretly Nothing But Buckets

**Chocolate Biscuits**

**March 18th**

**The Burrow**

_12:00 PM_

This is _exactly_ why I don't clean.

_12:02 PM_

Bucket-handles were obviously designed by someone who dislikes me.

_12:04 PM_

Why else would one break when I'm attempting to throw away the water I've used to mop the floors with?

_12:06 PM_

Why are you staring at me?

_12:08 PM_

Right.

_Right._

You haven't witnessed the whole Oh-let's-_kill_-Ginny-Weasley-event that took place on the 15th, have you?

_12:10 PM_

Bugger.

Well.

I'm not very keen on re-living it all, but here are some, er, nice things: Hermione absolutely refuses to speak to me; Malfoy thinks I slept with Zabini, Zacharias and Harry (don't ask me why or how, he's demented) and Professor Lupin is the only Order member who actually talks to me.

_12:12 PM_

It's not _my _fault Dolohov appeared at the Ministry cackling insanely about revenge after Zabini had stolen me, is it?

(Dolohov is this nutter who murdered some very important Order members until Professor Flitwick managed to trick him and hand him in to the Ministry).

But, apparently, it's my fault I put myself in danger, my fault I'd shamed the family, my fault Ron nearly lost an eye, and obviously my fault that Harry fought with Zacharias because he was last seen with me.

_12:14 PM_

Mum sentenced me to cleaning the house. Without magic.

Said something about teaching me a lesson.

_12:16 PM_

I thundered downstairs, completely soaked in grimy, lemon-scented bucket water, and entered the kitchen. Mum always does the garden on Sundays, so I sat on the table, muttering darkly about buckets and Why They Were Undoubtedly Evil.

'MUM!'

I jumped off the table and bumped my head into the kitchen cupboards (ow, ow) in shock while Ron continued his shouting.

'MUM! MU-HUM!'

'What is it, Ron?' Mum huffed, irritated, appearing at the backdoor.

'It's – it's –'

'Before I'm a hundred would be nice,' I said crossly, rubbing a hand over my forehead.

'Hermione. There's – baby,' Ron, the Eloquent One, said.

'What? She's having the baby _now?_' Mum demanded.

'No,' Ron managed, turning a rather sickening shade of white. 'There's something wrong with it.'

**March 18**

**St. Mungo's**

_2:00 PM_

How would Ron's head look on the living room wall?

_2:01 PM_

It would scare the visitors, but really, it would be _such _a _nice_ addition.

_2:02 PM_

It would be a better place than his neck, anyway.

_2:04 PM_

'He was just worried,' Harry tried, while I angrily tore another piece off of my paper napkin, imagining it was Ron's nose.

'Hermione was having a bloody check-up,' I said for the seventh time. The plump woman who was sitting at the table next to us took her hands off her son's ears and glared at me.

'He's – Ron didn't know that.'

'Obviously.'

'He meant well.'

'Harry,' I said, in my Harry-you're-being-an-idiot-again-voice, 'you know my mother.'

'I believe we've met,' Harry replied, amused.

'When my mother hears 'There's something wrong with your future grandchild', whatever happens next is not pleasant. For anyone involved.'

'Right.'

'A stupid, bloody check-up,' I muttered, and the plump woman at the table next to us said, annoyed, 'There's children here, keep the bloody swearing down!'

I stood up without noticing Harry attempted to hide his grin. 'I have to go. How's your eye?'

_2:05 PM_

Harry had supported a rather impressive black eye for a day or two after his fight with Zacharias (I haven't seen Zacharias yet, but Fred happily assured me he got off worse than Harry did), but he seemed to be doing all right now. His eye still looked a bit blue 'round the edges. Harry said it made him look more rugged.

_2:06 PM_

It's nice to talk to Harry like we're mates again, you know?

Though, that urge to snog him really has to go away.

_2:07 PM_

'- of course,' Harry finished.

I blinked, realising I'd completely missed what he said.

'Of course,' I affirmed, tearing my eyes away from Harry's lower lip (maybe it's my hormones?), and Harry grinned that unsettling Harry-grin at me.

_2:08 PM_

He's – honestly, no one grins like Harry. And it's completely wrong and –

Note to self: stop talking to Harry Potter.

_2:10 PM_

I took the staircase down a floor, and crashed into someone. 'Terribly sorry,' I said cheerfully, stepping aside, and wiping off my trousers. I was met with silence.

I cleared my throat, and when I successfully achieved absolutely nothing whatsoever, I looked up. Malfoy was looking back at me, pale, withdrawn and looking awfully angry at something.

'Malfoy?' I asked, shocked. 'What are you doing here?'

'We came to visit his mother, of course,' Pansy Parkinson said importantly, appearing at Malfoy's side.

_2:11 PM_

Parkinson, if you make a really good effort to get to know her, actually isn't all that bad.

_2:12 PM_

Mind you, a really, really, really, _really _good effort.

And after that, you might want to think about putting in some extra effort.

_2:13 PM_

Can't really be bothered with her.

_2:14 PM_

It's no wonder she drives four Contact secretaries insane every two weeks.

_2:15 PM_

I've stopped attempting to learn their names by now. I just call them, 'secretary number oh-who-bloody-cares.'

Everyone always knows who I'm talking about.

_2:16 PM_

'Your mother?'

'The Jan –' Parkinson began, but Malfoy cut her off sharply.

'That's quite enough, Pansy. Let's have tea. Weasley, come to work tomorrow, or I'll have you sacked.'

Parkinson strode away from me, her purse in hand, but I was blocking Malfoy's way. 'Weasley,' he barked, but I didn't move, frowning deeply.

'Your mum's in the Janus Thickey Ward?'

He was silent.

'How come I didn't know that?' I asked, softer.

'She's not permanently there, of course,' Malfoy said, sounding detached. 'She's only there for her examination, and when I return from my holiday in France next week, she will be restored to the Manor.'

'Malfoy Manor?'

Malfoy looked at me as if I was an idiot. Then, he seemed to regain his composure, and asked, in a snide tone, 'Where's Zabini? Had a lover's tiff?'

'I'm not dating Zabini,' I said, exasperated, for what must've been the thirtieth time in the last three days.

'You're not,' Malfoy mocked, sounding utterly unconvinced.

'Twat,' I muttered under my breath, stepping aside to let him through. As he passed me, however, I suddenly remembered something.

'Wait, Malfoy. What did you want? When you saw me outside Zabini's house?'

'Don't remember,' Malfoy said icily, climbing on.

'You don't remember what you want?' I repeated, dumbfounded, but he pretended like he didn't hear me and caught up with Pansy Parkinson, who was angrily tapping her feet a few steps up.

**March 19**

**Ministry**

_11:00 AM_

I reckon that if I keep staring at the large clock in the corner of the office hard enough, it might actually move to 'Lunch' on its own.

Or, maybe, I'll just have to help it a bit.

_12:01 actually 11:01 AM_

'Malfoy, it's Lunch.'

'Already?' Malfoy looked highly sceptical as he glanced up from Cheering Charm report number 768.

_12:02 actually 11:02 AM_

You think a bloke would learn to trust his secretary.

_12:04 actually 11:04 AM_

'Weasley,' he said sternly, and I sighed.

'I'm _hungry_,' I said, miserably. 'Why can't you allow me to nip out early? Just this once?'

'If I allow you to go out, I have to allow the other half of the department to go out as well, and then we'd not be getting any work done.'

'No one cares about the sodding Cheering Charms,' I mutter darkly, and Malfoy glares at me over the rims of his glasses. 'It's true,' I insist. 'No one cares whether or not you sway your wand or flick your wrist differently at the end.'

'The Ministry cares,' Malfoy says shortly, and I roll my eyes. 'You're a horrible, horrible Head,' I say, quite nicely, closing the door behind me.

_11:30 AM_

Oh. I've never gotten an owl for me before?

_11:32 AM_

_Gin,_

_Here's report 670._

_Zacharias._

_11:33 AM_

That's odd.

Zacharias isn't at all working on report 670, he's working on 512, because Sabrina insisted we correct one part of that second paragraph –

_11:34 AM_

_Oh_.

Right.

Got it.

_11:35 AM_

_Dear Gin,_

_Smart girl. Dinner at Colin's, at six-ish? _

_Zacharias_

_11:38 AM_

Zacharias is rather odd, at times. He took Moody's comments to heart and goes on about constant vigilance and whatnot whenever you catch him on a bad day. He sometimes forgets the war is over and scribbles me letters in the same manner.

Because you've probably not caught on yet: "Dinner at Colin's" basically means "Meet me back at the Leaky Cauldron, and we can talk about all the things that have been bothering you".

It's quite nice to talk to Zacharias while half-sloshed. You don't have to mind your manners, and he's a good listener, if a bit rubbish on the advice part (he suggested I murder Malfoy in his sleep with the aid of several Cornish Pixies last time).

Think I'll go.

_1:00 PM_

The thing is, work is never properly spread around here.

There are days on which I have to complete at least seventy reports and have to answer to heaps of owls, but there are days on which I'm just sat at my desk, staring at the blue-possibly-brown wall in front of me while Malfoy corrects reports that have already been corrected three times (such a bloody perfectionist, him).

Today, I'm sad to admit, is one of those days.

_1:02 PM_

I'll just go do something productive.

**Auror Headquarters**

_1:20 PM_

'Miss Weasley?'

I just passed Kingsley Shacklebolt's cubicle, and there's Professor Lupin (he'll always be Professor Lupin to me, it would be _weird_ to call him anything else), looking slightly tired but content as he holds his cup of tea in his left hand.

'Professor Lupin!' I say happily, and step inside. Kingsley nods at me and pours over some book Professor Lupin apparently brought with him from his travels, and Professor Lupin smiles. 'Do have a chair, Ginny,' he says jovially, and a chair appears out of thin air, pushing at the back of my knees, making me promptly collapse into it.

'You're still at it, then?' I ask, and shake my head politely when the teapot inquires in a thick Irish accent if I'd like to have some tea.

'I believe Dumbledore wouldn't leave us with such a large clue if it had not been worth pursuing,' Kingsley says, shortly, and returns to his reading.

I raise an eyebrow and Professor Lupin smiles at me. 'It's a curtain, after all. It's meant to be able to be opened sometime or another.'

'Harry still being difficult, then?' I say sympathetically, and Professor Lupin nods.

'Unfortunately.'

'Can't really blame him, I suppose. Though I do hope he's done with the 'Sirius is _dead_!' business.'

Professor Lupin looks amused, and is about to reply, when there's an irritated 'Weasley!' I can hear from two floors down. 'See you later,' I say, resigned, as I make my way over to the lift.

_1:35 PM_

'Weasley? WEAS –'

'Yeah, yeah, keep your hair on,' I say as I enter the office. Malfoy glares at me.

'You're completely and utterly fired.'

_1:36 PM_

Er.

_1:38 PM_

'Again?'

'You can't make - _personal_ - appointments and keep them laying about the office as if it's nothing!'

'Personal – Malfoy, did you read my mail?'

'I did not,' he says, looking a bit uncomfortable, suddenly.

'You did,' I say, flabbergasted. 'I can't believe you. You're not Ginny Weasley, are you?'

'Thank Salazar not.'

'Oh, don't get all snipy ('Snipy's not a word, Weasley') – I don't bloody care – at me. _You're _the one who's reading my mail.'

'I wasn't reading your mail, this just happened to be lying on top of the report I needed!'

'But you read it.'

'Well –'

'Well?'

'- yes,' he finished, not sounding sorry at all.

'That's going to cost you lunch, and you know it,' I say, and make a loud shushing sound when he opens his mouth to protest.

'And we're having it the very day you're coming back from wherever it is you're going, an hour after your Portkey arrives.'

'Wench,' he mutters, and I throw the nearest thing – which happened to be an inkwell – at his retreating back, grinning innocently at him when it collides with his head and he turns around to glare at me.

_1:40 PM_

Really, Malfoy's too easy.

* * *

**Author's Note: **There's Maths homework roughly the size of China waiting for me, and somehow, inexplicably, I'm _happy_ about it. I've obviously lost it.

Thank you to all you lovely people who bothered to do something as nice as review, because you made me very happy, indeed, and I will continue to hug each and every one of you when you aren't looking, so there.

Oh! I also got a few questions, so here we go:

To Cutie pie baby and CrazyBoutHP: it sounds like it, yes, but it's really not it. Well, maybe. A bit. Just a tiny bit, though. Eventually, Harry will be there again. Somehow. And really, Gin's just too wonderful and cool; I can't help but like her.

To reads2much819: the question marks were rendered incorrectly, which made it look stupid. They were supposed to indicate date, location and time (in that order). They're fixed now, by the way.

To pinkythesnowman: Er. See above. What's UnReal?

To CoupeLaFromage: The North Pole, of course! I live with Santa and his gazillion elves, and I sometimes nick the presents you lot are supposed to get. Really. (Europe, actually, it's great!)

Think that's it. If I missed yours, feel free to throw something heavy in my general direction.


	6. Of Brothers In The Ministry

**Chocolate Biscuits**

**March 27th**

**Flat**

_6:30 AM_

Can't actually talk; have to make sure to get to work on time - whoever decided that _Percy_ could be the replacing Head of the Charms department while Malfoy's in France should be clobbered over the head with the new _Nimbus 3000_.

_6:45 AM_

Oh buggering bloody Merlin in –

**Ministry**

_7:10 AM_

'Ginny.'

Percy says it like it's the most disgusting thing he's ever heard, narrowing his eyes at me. I bite my lip in order not to say anything mean to him (something that might or might not involve a thirteen-year-old Percy, a teddy bear and a pair of Dad's old socks) while he impatiently taps his foot on the marble floor.

'Work starts at seven, Ginny.'

'I know that.'

'Do you also know how a clock works?' Percy snaps, unusually irritated.

I pretend to stare at him. 'No, actually, I don't. What is this clo-ock you speak of?'

Zacharias, who happens to be in the meeting room already, flashes me a grin, but Percy isn't amused. 'If you're late one more time, Ginny, you'll be sacked,' he says, and then steps aside to let me through.

'Nice, Perce,' I say testily, sitting down and taking out my writing quill.

_10:10 AM_

Going to kill Percy.

When I'm awake.

_10:20 AM_

'You're not allowed to sleep through meetings,' a voice whispers in my ear, and I warily open one eye and turn to the left. Zacharias smiles at me, and I rub one of my eyes sleepily.

'Sorry. Percy is just so horribly _boring_.'

My voice is all weird from sleeping too long, but Zacharias is beaming at me, so he probably doesn't mind too much. 'A brilliant Illusion Spell you cast, though. Took me a second or two to realise you hadn't come back to the department yet.'

'Had to convince Percy I was taking notes somehow, hadn't I?' I reply, and stretch.

'You might want to come back either way, though,' Zacharias says, suddenly serious.

I stop stretching and stare at him. 'Why?'

_10:45 AM_

Who decided that the Minister for Magic can just decide to visit whatever department he wants, whenever he wants?

Probably the same person that made Percy Head of the Department.

Honestly.

You Horrible Person, if you're reading this, be _afraid_.

_11:00 AM_

'Ah, there's Miss Weasley.'

'Sir,' I say happily, a horribly cheerful smile plastered upon my face.

'Glad to have you, glad to have you,' the Minister says, then runs a hand through his hair. 'How's the department faring?' he asks, turning to face Percy.

Percy turns an unbecoming shade of red and gives a jerky smile. 'Just fine, Minister. Would you like to have some tea?'

'Tea, yes, of course,' the Minister says, and then smiles. 'Come along now, Ginevra, we have a lot to talk about.'

**The Minister's Office**

_11:50 AM_

'– while I left the department in charge of dear Percy, things with Bulgaria went the complete opposite way – doesn't know a word of Bulgarian, of course – and that's not encouraged –'

_11:51 AM_

Malfoy's staring at me.

I bet he planned this.

Prat.

Who else leaves the department alone for a week, in the hands of _Percy_, who should obviously not be let near to positions of power, because he's mental, and then suddenly is back in the Minister for Magic's office having tea?

_12:30 PM_

'Minister,' I interrupt kindly, and he stops, putting down his empty teacup (empty because he splattered it all over the floor while emphasising exactly _what_ the Charms department must and mustn't do) on the desk in front of him.

Malfoy shoots me a glance and then smiles charmingly at the Minister. 'Thank you, sir. I would love to sit here with you and my secretary –'

_12:31 AM_

That was uncalled for, mangy Malfoy, your secretary, honestly –

_12:32 AM_

'– but we'd not get any work done.'

The Minister looks a bit surprised. 'Oh, yes, of course, quite right you are, Draco! Back to work, back to work, do pop in again, Ginevra, you look lovely, as per usual!'

_12:45 AM_

'This is your entire fault and I'm killing you,' I state matter-of-factly, when we enter one of the lifts. The tiny man who is standing next to me with a large, wooden box in his hand quivers and gets out first thing. Malfoy smirks.

'How very unbecoming, Weasley, threatening to murder poor Homer, especially after all he's done for the beginning of our civilisation.'

_12:46 AM_

The wizard who was in the lift with us is called Homer. Malfoy obviously thinks he's being really clever.

_12:47 AM_

'That was Merlin the First, you idiot,' I snap, but Malfoy shakes his head.

'Homer wrote '_Witchees_' in 900 B.C.,' he says snottily.

'Merlin the First's diary dates from 756 B.C., Malfoy. In any case, Homer was a Greek wizard, so it's Merlin you would be looking for.'

'Not true. Greek or not, Homer was the first to write down his ideas about a proper wizarding society. Merlin only jabbered on about magical potions and who to curse with Jiggled Legs next.'

'He invented curses and potions first, which is why _he_ is the very base of our wizarding society. If he hadn't gotten those ideas, Homer would've never been able to use them in _Witchees_.'

'He referred to them once,' Malfoy says dismissively, entering the meeting room. I follow.

'Which means he _knew_ about them,' I say triumphantly. 'Which means even Homer acknowledges Merlin the First was the first in starting the wizarding society by inventing a Coughing Potion.'

'Inventing a Potion does not equal to starting a whole society. Homer created the idea for Diagon Alley; suggested we leave the managing of our gold to Goblins, the most educated magical creatures; _he_ was the one who said all countries must have their own Ministry to keep track of all the wizards in the country.'

'But you admit, if Merlin the first had never gotten that – oh, hello, Harry – idea of the Coughing Potion, Homer would have just thought "I'll hide my magic from the Muggles!" and we would've never had –_ Harry_?'

_12:55 PM_

Harry is sitting in one of the chairs, looking very amused, and Malfoy leers at him. 'You're late, Potter.'

'Actually, you are,' he says, gesturing to the large clock behind him. 'You demanded I showed up here at half one.'

'Demanded?' I repeat, slightly baffled. 'When did you speak to Harry?'

'Weasley, not now,' Malfoy says, running a hand through his hair. 'Get back to your desk and finish the report on the meeting.'

My jaw drops. 'You can't – you're bloody well not shoving me off, Malfoy. We were going to get lunch together!'

_12:57 PM_

Why is – Harry's looking at me funny.

_1:00 PM_

Malfoy narrows his eyes at me.

'The day you left, you nosy Department Head,' I say, and Harry stares at me for a while longer. I throw him an irritated look. Honestly, what's with him?

'Fine, I'll just deal with Potter and then we can have lunch.'

'We can't,' I say.

Malfoy sighs exasperatedly. 'Why not, Weasley?'

'It's one already; we can't have lunch if you still need to meet with Harry.'

'Then we'll have lunch at three.'

There's a slight pause. 'Malfoy,' I say slowly, 'do you know anyone who has their lunch at three in the afternoon?'

'Dinner, then,' Malfoy snaps, and Harry chokes on something (serves him well, Staring ... Starer) as I shoot Malfoy a very nice and charming smile.

'Of course, sir. Bye, Harry.'

Harry gives a confused little wave as I flounce off to my desk.

**Flat**

_6:00 PM_

'What are you doing?' Sarah asks.

I let out a girly shriek, because Sarah never has the decency to shout "I'm home!" whenever she comes home, and suddenly hearing someone speak behind you when you're trying to see whether or not your left shoe is hidden in the ugly, striped couch is definitely scary.

Sarah giggles.

'Looking for my left shoe,' I explain, once I've recovered from the shock, and Sarah shrugs off her coat and shakes her head much like a dog, spraying water everywhere, before saying, 'Maybe under the coat rack? You always kick them off there.'

**Under coat rack**

_6:05 PM_

AHA!

**On ugly, striped couch**

_6:06 PM_

I'm no longer shoe-less and now quite done with preparing. Now all that is left to do is wait for Malfoy to show up.

_6:20 PM_

Er.

_6:40 PM_

Maybe he forgot?

_7:00 PM_

'I'm going out!' Sarah shouts, her coat already half on, and I manage a feeble smile her way, which she returns heartily, before she closes the door behind her.

_7:50 PM_

Maybe I'm a bigger idiot than I thought.

_8:20 PM_

This is ridiculous.

**302, Wisteria Wedges**

_9:00 PM_

I decided to Apparate over to Zacharias's, but there's no light on, which probably means he's not home. I shake my head, and walk on the grey stones spread in-between his well-kept front garden, slowly making my way out on the stoop.

_9:01 PM_

Oh, maybe Hermione!

_9:03 PM_

Right.

She still isn't talking to me.

Ron is out of the question, then, too.

_9:05 PM_

Maybe I can bother Harry for just a moment?

I'm hungry, and he's a very good cook.

**Godric's Hollow**

_9:15 PM_

No light here, either.

What, is it Abandon-Ginny-Weasley-When-She's-Being-Stood-Up-By-Her-Boss-And-Wants-To-Talk-To-Someone-Day today?

_9:16 PM_

Bugger.

_9:17 PM_

Oh, look, here's a note!

_Cho,_

_Need to go for business a bit. If you -_

_9:21 PM_

C – Cho?

_9:24 PM_

'Ginny, you scared me!'

I start, and nearly fall over. Cho Chang is standing in front of me, wand in hand. There are two heavy-looking bags next to her, filled to the brim with all sorts of nice looking things.

'I didn't know you were coming over,' she says, surprised, but I can only stare at her. 'I think you're looking for Harry, right?'

I nod mutely.

'Well, I haven't seen him since this morning, but he did mention something about going away at breakfast.'

'Right,' I say, when I've managed to find my voice. 'That's – I only wanted to – talk to him. He left you a note.'

I hold it out to her, and she tucks her wand back into the pocket of her trousers before taking it from me. When she's done reading it, she looks up at me.

'You didn't read it, did you?' she asks, suspiciously, and I shake my head.

Cho visibly relaxes. 'As I said, he did mention something about going away; it seems like he's gone to Tahiti.'

_9:28 PM_

Bloody hell.

Tahiti.

Prat.

_9:31 PM_

'Oh. Then I guess I'll be going.'

'Wouldn't you like to stay? Harry is far better at cooking, but I can manage some soup or –'

'Nothing, I'm fine, thanks,' I interrupt, shaking my head, and I give her a smile. 'I best be going, I have work tomorrow. It was nice to see you.'

Cho grins. 'Okay. Goodnight.'

'Night,' I say, before Disapparating back to my flat.

**Flat**

_10:00 PM_

I wonder why I didn't see this one coming.

I mean, Harry fancied Cho before me, so it would make sense that she would live with him and eat breakfast with him –

_10:20 PM_

Maybe I should just go to bed.

And skip dinner.

**Kitchen**

_11:50 PM_

My tummy started making scary noises.

I always listen to it, you know.

_12:00 AM_

Mhm, bed.

Comfy.

_2:59 AM_

Huteawhat?

_3:00 AM_

Someone at the door.

Three in morning.

Guh.

_3:02 AM_

Bet it's Sarah.

Don't like Sarah.

Must kill Sarah.

_3:03 AM_

Nicely.

_3:04 AM_

Lightswitchamabob, where are yoooouuu?

_3:05 AM_

'Oh. Hi.'

_3:06 AM_

I like how I can sound subtle, like my waking up at three in the morning happens every other day.

_3:07 AM_

Zacharias stared back at me, eyes slightly unfocused, sort-of-blond hair tousled. He doesn't give any indication that he heard me.

'Can I come in?' he says suddenly.

'Sure,' I say, stepping aside, and Zacharias half-stumbles and half-steps over the threshold.

He took a short look around the flat, and then looked back at me, running a hand through his hair. 'Ginny,' he said, frowning suddenly, and I nod at him.

'You know,' he says, sounding pained, 'I don't have a girlfriend anymore.'

'What?' I say, shocked. 'How is that – you were out with her!'

_3:09 AM_

I then realise I probably shouldn't have said that, because I don't really want Zacharias to know I was at his house a few hours back.

'I asked her to marry me,' Zacharias miserably told the carpet, too sloshed to have noticed my slip.

'Sit,' I told him, pressing his shoulders down, and he let himself be seated on the dark couch.

'I'll make us some tea,' I said, and he nodded faintly.

_3:15 AM_

'Zacharias, you _can't_ fall asleep!'

'I want to,' Zacharias protested, but I sat him upright and handed him some tea.

'Go on, drink.'

He pouts at his teacup and then looks up. 'Ginny,' he says again, and I raise an eyebrow.

'Yes?'

A suddenly familiar smell comes from him as he leans closer, and I lean back against the pillows, blinking. 'You're drunk.'

'Not very much,' he says, leaning even closer.

'You're leaning over me, Zacharias,' I say softly, and he frowns, and looks down at my fading Chudley Cannon shirt, then at his hands, placed on either side of my head.

'Oh. I am. Sorry.'

'It's no –'

_3:17 AM_

HELLO.

_3:20 AM_

'Zacharias.'

He's quiet for a moment. 'I know. Sorry.'

'You – er – you licked my elbow?'

'Yes. Seemed rather tasty.'

'My elbow?'

'Yes?'

_3:22 AM_

Why do these things always happen to me?

_3:30 AM_

I gently push him off of me, and conjure him a blanket. 'Stay for the night. Sleep off the Firewhiskey.'

'Thanks, Gin.'

'No problem.'

* * *

**Author's Notes: **Ow, _ow_, no hitting the author!

Thanks to every lovely one of you. You're greatness. Personified. All of you. Together. And the lot of you make my head inflate, which is also fantastic, because that makes me happy (but maybe a bit like Malfoy, which is probably not a good thing).

As for the questions I got, here we go:

To **MegTao**: Mrs Malfoy is in the Janus Thickey Ward, which is the ward where Gilderoy Lockhart also spent a fair amount of time. It's on the fourth floor, Spell Damage. There's going to be more about that later! As for your other question, the "clue" isn't going to be massive, but it _is_ going to play a part!

To **misschiga **(anonymous): Oh, sure! But I'm afraid I'm not getting paid for writing any of this (I wish!), so you'd probably end up with only a half-eaten chocolate-chip cookie ;)


	7. Of Reconcill, well, Making Up

**Chocolate Biscuits**

**March 28th**

**Office**

_7:10 AM_

Sounds fancy, doesn't it, office? It has this ring to it, making it seem like I'm doing something that's more important than staring at my wall and twirling my hair until Malfoy decides he's done informing all the members of the Department (minus me) what the meeting is _about_.

_7:13 AM_

It's taking a ridiculously long time.

_7:15 AM_

I hate him, you know. He is making me wait, and then this morning when I ran into him, he was all pale and rumpled and didn't even apologise for not showing up yesterday.

_10:00 AM_

'Ginny?' Zacharias asks, and I start, before I look up at him. 'Oh, hello. Feeling better?'

'Er, yes,' Zacharias says, very much not looking me in the eye.

'Well, then. I hope you manage to sort things out with Gloria -'

'We did!' he says quickly, in a slightly higher tone than necessary, and I raise an eyebrow. 'We did sort it out, I mean. Listen, Gin, I - don't want things to be weird between us because of last night -' he tailed off, wrinkling his nose.

'Well, really, it was only for a night -' I start, and he makes a choked sort of noise, hauls me off my feet, and drags me into the nearest office.

'Don't say that so loud, what will Mary think?'

'Mary?'

'The new Contact Secretary.'

'Oh, her. She's a bit weird, isn't she?'

'Gin!' Zacharias says, annoyed, and I blink at him.

'What?'

'Well - you're being all calm about this!'

'About what? Last night? Zacharias, honestly, it's _fine_, there's no need to apologise -'

'WE HAD SEX!' Zacharias bellows. 'THE LEAST YOU CAN DO IS LET ME APOLOGISE SINCE I'M ENGAGED!'

The door bangs open, and Malfoy is standing there, glaring at the both of us. 'However interesting your sex lives are, Smith and Weasley, I'd rather not you discuss them so loudly and certainly not so much in _my_ office.'

'Yes, sir,' Zacharias says, dragging me off, while I'm still staring at him.

_7:25 AM_

'Zacharias, we didn't -' I start, pulling myself out of his grip when we're back at my desk.

'Gin, please,' Zacharias says, sounding suddenly very tired. 'It wasn't right to lead you on like that, and I'm sorry and I really, really love Gloria and - I just can't.'

He pauses, and glances at Mary, who jumps and immediately gets back to replying to Pansy Parkinson's fourteenth owl of the day. 'I'll see you,' he says, and before I can say anything, he's off.

_7:45 AM_

Well, that's just brilliant, isn't it?

_7:46 AM_

Where on earth did he get the idea we slept together, anyway? If we had - Merlin forbid - he'd be in my bed the next morning, and he woke up on the couch!

_7:47 AM_

Boys are truly and utterly stupid.

I'll throw something at the next one I see.

**Still in Office**

_9:00 AM_

_Crack._

'Harry's gone! His house is deserted, there's no note and Ron thought - do you know anything?'

Hermione's standing in front of me in her blue dress (wrinkled and far too small for her belly), wringing her hands in an agitated manner.

'Hermione, hello, nice to see you, not busy, no, not at all, haven't talked to you in weeks, but who really cares?' I snap.

'Ginny, you have to understand -' Hermione begins, and I sigh, standing up and beckoning her towards the tea room.

'I'm out!' I shout in the general direction of Malfoy's office.

**Tea Room**

_9:05 AM_

I make Hermione a nice cup of tea, and sit down across from her. 'You shouldn't worry so much.'

Hermione's lips quirk into a smile, and she sips her tea. 'But really, where has he gone off to now? Ron wants to tell him all about that Quidditch player he met after his last match- Dingby, I believe he was called - and he's nowhere to be found.'

'Have you tried asking Cho Chang?'

Hermione stares at me. 'Why would I ask her?'

'She's living with him, isn't she? He wrote _her_ a note, is all I know.'

'Living with him? No, I think you've got it wrong, Harry's been living alone ever since the ... war.'

I don't bother to correct her, only smile. 'Either way, he's fine. How's Ron?'

'Oh, the same really. Still ridiculously lazy when it comes to housework, I don't know what is wrong with him! Just the other day; I bent down to pick up his dirty socks ...'

**Stairwell**

_11:50 AM_

'Weasley, you missed the meeting.'

Malfoy is still alarmingly pale, his robes are still wrinkled, and he looks utterly exhausted (serves him right, _git)_.

'Oh,' I say, trying to step past him. After all, if it's so important, he'd have me attend it.

He runs a hand through his hair. 'You ought to know, it really is required for my most important secretary to -'

'Well, if it had been that important, you needn't have told me to go outside to wait for you,' I interrupt him pointedly, and he stares at me for a moment.

'I never asked you to _leave_.'

'Since when is "Weasley, _leave now_ and wait outside" not asking me to leave?'

He blinks. 'I didn't say that.'

'Really? We're going to do the boring denying back and forth bit?' I ask him, shaking my fringe out of my face.

It takes Malfoy a very long time to reply. He's staring at some girl's blonde hair, which is glowing strangely in the sunlight that streams in from one of the magical windows.

_11:51 AM_

'S all nice and stuff, but he was talking to me.

_11:52 AM_

'Malfoy,' I say, gently tapping him on the shoulder.

It happens before I can properly say something.

The hand that was touching his shoulder is just there, and then it's not, and I'm feeling oddly light. Malfoy is looking at me venomously, his wand raised, and he's making me float about five-ten feet above the stairwell. '_Don't touch her_,' Malfoy hisses, snake-like, and he flicks his wand in a downwards motionh.

I'm suddenly at the foot of the stairs, and my wrist _hurts_ and the girl whose hair Malfoy was staring at kneels down next to me, asking me if I'm all right.

Malfoy is standing at the top of the staircase; Zacharias is angrily pointing a wand at his throat, but he doesn't seem to know what it's for.

'Smith, you're making a spectacle out of yourself.'

Zacharias doesn't waver, only pushes his wand up higher. Malfoy's neck is forced up, and though I admit it's a very _nice_ neck, I wouldn't be very upset if something happened to it at the moment.

'Come along, we'll take you to St Mungo's,' the girl says, and hauls me up. I draw in a sharp breath, and the last thing I see before she pulls me into a nearby fireplace is a jet of purple from Zacharias's wand.

**St. Mungo's**

_12:30 PM_

'There,' Luna says, pushing her wand back into her robe-pocket. 'You'll be here until morning, I reckon.'

I pout. 'Why?'

'It's normal,' Luna says, smiling placidly. 'I have to be able to check in on you tomorrow, just to make sure everything has re-grown.'

_12:32 PM_

Malfoy broke my wrist.

Wanker.

_12:36 PM_

I don't even know _why_.

_12:37 PM_

I mean, I like Quidditch as much as I like chocolate biscuits, but the whole hovering-above-the-Ministry-stairwell-except-not-on-a-broom isn't a pleasant experience.

Neither is the stinging pain in my wrist, come to think of it.

_12:45 PM_

Am bored. Decided to be naughty and explore.

**St. Mungo's, Janus Thickey Ward**

_1:02 PM_

'And I'd rather have some pudding, Tinny, not that horrible biscuits you served last year -' Mrs Malfoy said, tossing her blonde hair back.

The Healer next to her gave me a small smile. 'Awful, isn't it? She's been like this for days, never quite got over the shock, I reckon.'

Blimey. What's Malfoy's mum doing in the ward for people who've lost it?

* * *

**Author's Note: **I wrote this entire chapter in a very girly font, and it was _fun_. As in, oh-let's-throw-in-as-much-I's-as-possible- because-they-have-a-funny-heart-like-dot-fun. Very entertaining after studying very hard for Maths (and still failing), you can imagine.

I'd like to thank everyone who reviewed! I adore you all to bits. Thanks ever so much for all your support, it's brilliant!

Oh, to **Laughing Cat**: as the Minister (I do love him, he's so clueless) is telling Ginny, Percy was mucking things up with Bulgaria, so they had to call Malfoy in, because he's more skilled at pretending to at least understand what they're (the Bulgarians, I mean) on about.

And to **Bobina (anonymous): **yes, I have tried chocolate biscuits, and they're lovely. They're basically these biscuits that are covered entirely in chocolate. They're oh-so-bad for your teeth (Mr Granger doesn't like them), but they're very addicting and Ginny loves them to bits!


	8. Of Tomorrowdays

**Chocolate Biscuits**

**March 29th**

**St. Mungo's**

_3:00 AM_

Am awake.

_3:01 AM_

Why am I awake?

_3:03 AM_

Had dreadful dream about Malfoy incident. The whole thing flashed right by me again. The random blonde girl, Malfoy's sudden like for seeing me hanging in the middle in the air and then deciding he likes me better on the ground.

_3:05 AM_

Am stupid.

Must do something about self.

_3:07 AM_

I've always liked Harry, you know.

Fancy him loads. Could list a hundred reasons, too.

But that would mean I'd have to make a list.

_3:09 AM_

'M too tired to make a list.

_3:11 AM_

Malfoy is an arse.

_3:15 AM_

I know I've been going on about him for ages, but that was only because I was still sour about Harry breaking up with me.

_3:17 AM_

Yes, awful, isn't it?

Broke right up with me when we buried Dumbledore – which I can understand, because he had to go off and save the world, and all that, and I would be in a lot of danger, blab bla bla, etc. etc. woe is Harry, and so on.

But then, he tried to make a run for it at Bill's wedding.

_3:19 AM_

I know!

Alongside Hermione and my prat of a brother, Ron.

I _politely inquired _where the hell they thought they were going, and Harry had the nerve to break up with me. Again!

_3:23 AM_

Like he'd been planning it all along!

I can see it now:

**Harry Potter's Daily Planner**

1. Break up with Ginny Weasley;

2. Break up with Ginny Weasley again. She might not have realised the first time.

_3:26 AM_

I don't like the person in the next bed over.

_3:38 AM_

He snores.

And he ogles the nurses.

Stares right at them when they change his bandages.

Luna says he refuses to have proper magical attention and won't explain how exactly he managed to break all the bones in his arms.

_3:40 AM_

He's as big as a prat as Malfoy.

_3:41 AM_

You know, I kind of want to know what Malfoy's mum is doing here.

_3:45 AM_

I miss Sarah.

She hasn't visited me yet, has been too busy with work, bless her.

She said she'd pop in tomorrow –

_3:48 AM_

It _is_ tomorrow.

_3:49 AM_

Or is it today?

_3:50 AM_

It's tomorrowday, then.

That way, they both win.

_3:52 AM_

CAN THAT MAN STOP HIS INFERNAL SNORING?

_4:00 AM_

Sleeeeeep...

_6:02 AM_

'_Psst_.'

_6:03 AM_

Nerghearly.

_6:04 AM_

'Ginny! Psst, Ginny!'

I slowly opened my eyes, and came face to face with Sarah's sparkling brown ones. 'Sarah?' I asked, rubbing the sleep out of my left eye. 'What are you doing here, 's early?'

Sarah sat back into her chair, but kept shifting and bouncing up while she waited for me to wake up properly.

'Come on,' she urged me, and I yawned, waving a dismissive hand.

'Hi,' I managed, after a while, and instead of greeting me, like a friend should've bloody well done, she squealed, 'I got us tickets to SNAKES!'

I was instantly awake.

'Snakes? You're joking!'

'No! I got them off Danny, you know how he's fancied me for ages, and I fluttered my lashes a bit –'

'It's brilliant, Sarah,' I cut her off, in my excitement, and she didn't even seem to mind, just smiled back.

Then her smile faded. 'When are you getting out?'

'Luna said I could go today,' I replied, with a shrug. Sarah glanced at my bandaged hand. 'What happened?' she asked, poking it curiously.

I hissed and drew back my hand. 'Oi, don't, it's still sore. Well, I'm not sure what happened exactly, but one minute I was talking to Malfoy, the next he was hovering me over the staircase with his wand, and then he dropped me. My wrist snapped on one of the stairs,' I clarified.

'I'm going to kill him,' she stated calmly. 'Where does he get off, anyway, hexing you?'

I averted my gaze. 'I don't know.'

_6:07 AM_

Sarah told me the concert was in two days, and that I had better coerce Luna into letting me out of here before that, or she'd personally come break me out.

I don't think anyone's ever broken out of St. Mungo's, but we can always try.

_11:00 AM_

'Looks just fine,' Luna assures me, and then smiles. 'You have a visitor, by the way.'

'What?' I ask, still focusing on the _you're free to go now_ part of the sentence, and Luna quietly repeats her statement.

'Who?' I demand, then, and Luna steps aside.

_11:01 AM_

'H – Harry,' I say faintly, and Harry looks a bit tired and a bit angry and a bit relieved all at once as he goes to sit on my bed.

Luna makes some exaggerated hand gestures towards Harry and to me behind Harry's back (I think she's finally lost it) before leaving.

'Gin,' he says, glancing at my wrist. 'I heard what happened.'

'Oh. Cho told you, did she?'

'Cho?' he asks, blinking. 'No, she didn't.'

'Okay, then. You might want to go back home anyway, and tell her you're visiting me. I've seen Chang angry, and it isn't a pretty sight,' I tell him wisely.

'Can you stop talking about Cho for a minute?' he asks, with a slightly exasperated tone to his voice. 'I'm here to see you.'

'Yeah, but I don't want to be put right back in St. Mungo's the minute I get out. And if she's your girlfriend –'

Harry puts a finger to my lips. 'No more talking about her. I'm here for you. Are you okay?'

_11:05 AM_

Harry hands.

Neerrgh.

Hate Harry.

_11:07 AM_

'Malfoy threw me off a staircase. Of _course_ I'm not all right,' I say, blankly, and Harry grins. 'It's not funny. It's painful. The wanker broke my wrist.'

'I talked with him this morning. He says he's sorry.'

'You talked with Malfoy?'

'Yeah, and you shouldn't be too hard on him, Gin, he's had some trouble with his Mum.'

I snort. 'Oh, did he now? That explains everything, it really does. Apparently, having "some trouble" gives you the right to throw people off staircases.'

'Gin –' Harry starts, in his oh-Merlin-don't-be-unreasonable-tone, but I barge right on.

'No, that's perfectly fine. Next time you break up with me expect a full house on your head. And if you don't happen to survive, well, I'm terribly sorry, but I had some trouble with you.'

_11:09 AM_

There's an awkward pause for a minute or two, and then Harry starts laughing.

Not the sort of laughing he usually does – just a grin or two in my direction that lets me know he appreciates my joke – but the sort of laugh where he throws his head back and _laughs_, and I can't stop the butterflies in my stomach from fluttering about.

_11:20 AM_

God, I love Harry.

**March 31st**

**Snakes Concert**

_1:00 AM_

This is beyond awesome.

I love the Snakes.

_1:50 AM_

OH MERLIN, NO, DON'T DO THAT TO ME.

**Behind a Pole Thing of Some Kind**

_2:00 AM_

Harry's here.

With Cho.

_2:01 AM_

Oh, and of course, there's Malfoy with snotty Pansy Parkinson.

_2:04 AM_

This concert is generally very _un-awesome_.

**Behind Other Pole, so I can glare at both Malfoy and Harry**

_3:05 AM_

'Oh, hey Gin,' Harry says, from behind me.

_3:10 AM_

How did he find me?

I had the best hiding place in the world.

I turn around to face him, and spot Sarah waving at me from the bar.

_3:12 AM_

Oh, she's _so_ not getting any presents again.

Ever.

_3:13 AM_

And look, Malfoy's come for a drink, as well.

How – wonderful.

_3:14 AM_

I HATE the Snakes.

I HATE this concert!

_3:16 AM_

'Hi – Harry,' I say, because Harry has started to look at me a bit worriedly.

Harry grins. 'How are you? How's the wrist?'

'It's fine, thanks,' I say, stepping sideways to try and hide from Malfoy's view. Bloody bastard's turned around to face the dance floor, of course, drink in hand. Harry takes a step with me, and I throw him a look. 'Where's Cho?' I ask.

Harry shrugs. 'I don't know, I haven't seen her since the start of the concert.'

'Harry,' I say, taking another step left, because Malfoy looks like he's spotted me, 'she's your girlfriend, she's not – you should keep a better eye on her, right?'

'She's – she's not my girlfriend,' Harry says, frowning. 'She's just staying over at my house because her sister kicked her out of hers.'

'Right, right,' I say, absently, flailing a bit because Malfoy's now walking over.

'_Ginny_,' Harry says, and I take my gaze off Malfoy and look at him.

'What?'

'I –' Harry starts, and then the world 

_stops_ -

because Harry's kissing me.

_3:18 AM_

I draw back, startled, and Harry's smiling. Almost subconsciously, I look up at Malfoy, and find that his hand is open, and the glass with Firewhiskey he was carrying is on the floor, smashed to pieces.

* * *

**Author's Note: **Boo. Missed me?

Thanks to all you lovely people who reviewed. I'd thank you all personally, but Mum's on my tail and she's a bit mad I've been neglecting my homework. Cheers!


	9. Of The Comfort Thing

**Chocolate Biscuits**

**April 3rd**

**Ministry Tea Room**

_7:35 AM_

Shut up. Don't ask.

It's really nice, though, this room. All cosy and filled with tea-y things like self-boiling kettles and sugar pots that explode too much because Herald from Accidental Spell Reversing can't keep his stupid jokes to himself.

And Malfoy isn't here.

_7:40 AM_

Anywhere Malfoy isn't, is a fantastic place to be.

_7:41 AM_

I mean, yeah, he's _usually_ unbearable, but I'd rather hoped we'd gotten past the "grunt-and-pretend-to-be-a-Goblin" stage and moved onto the "bickering-but-getting-work-done" one.

Apparently not.

_7:42 AM_

I don't even know what I've done wrong, to that!

_7:46 AM_

'Gin – oh, that does look horrid.'

I look up to some person I'm quite sure I've never met before, and manage a feeble smile. It probably looks dead convincing, I'm a great actress.

_7:47 AM_

'It's fine, really,' I assure Miss I Have The Most Skinny Legs on the Planet, and she smiles convincingly and asks if I'd like another cuppa.

_7:50 AM_

I should probably fall down stairs more often.

Everyone's been so _nice_ about it; I haven't the heart to tell them I was used in one of Malfoy's insane plans to murder off his secretaries, really.

**Still April 3rd**

**Desk**

_7:57 AM_

Oh! There's _cake_ on my desk!

_7:58 AM_

I do _so_ love cake.

I would marry cake, if it weren't for the fact that it's food and I can't have sex with it.

_7:59 AM_

I do _so _love sex.

I'm sex-deprived.

Last time was with Dean.

And maybe possibly with Zabini, but I somehow think he doesn't do Weasleys, because he fancies Hermione.

_8:02 AM_

Haha.

_8:04 AM_

I wonder how Dean is doing.

_8:06 AM_

This cake tastes _very_ good, never mind the fact that the sauce or whatever is on top is well drippy.

_8:10 AM_

'No!' I mumble vaguely to myself, as the drippy chocolate drips quietly onto my recently-put-on bandage (Luna said something about keeping my wrist clean because Dad passed some new rubbish law about patients being able to pick whether they want to be healed magically or not and somehow managed to convey I belonged to the latter category. I still hate him for that. I very purposefully _not_ passed him the toast rack when he asked on Fred and George's birthday).

Since one hand has the plate, and the other hand has the cake in it, and I _have_ to get that chocolate off, I do the next sensible thing.

_8:15 AM_

'Weasley, are you _licking _your wrist?'

_8:20 AM_

Am just perfectly calm, only trying to kill Malfoy with my eyes.

They are very deadly.

_8:24 AM_

'One day back and you're already making the most ridiculous spectacle out of yourself,' he sneers, as if you could actually _sneer_ words, and then marches right past me into his office, with a grunt.

_8:25 AM_

I told you.

_8:27 AM_

I think someone should inform him Goblins are sneaky, pathetic bastards.

_8:28 AM_

Not unlike him, actually.

Only he doesn't deserve the term "bastard" – it's too nice.

_8:30 AM_

Have decided I shall henceforth refer to Malfoy as Sir Awkwardly Big Nose.

_8:31 AM_

He does have a large nose.

Sort of like Dean.

_8:34 AM_

Funny how the conversation always turns to Dean.

**Apparently, oh, it's April 3rd**

**Some fancy French restaurant**

_1:00 PM_

See, I knew Hermione's sudden lunch invitation wasn't right.

_1:01 PM_

Harry beams at me from the expensive table, all robe-y and handsome looking, while Hermione tries her best not to look like she just roped the dashing heroine of our story (i.e. – me) into a trap.

_1:03 PM_

I should write a book about treacherous friends, I should.

_1:25 PM_

I would want to say that Hermione's plan is going very well. But it isn't.

_1:26 PM_

Stupid pregnant women – you can't be mean to them, because they're only reproducing for the good of wizarding kind – Hermione, especially. She doesn't get moody at all; her hormones make her deliriously _happy_.

She _knits_!

_1:27 PM_

Anyway, back to Harry.

'So,' he says for the twentieth time.

'Yeah,' I respond, faking an interest in the wall behind him so as not to look him in the face.

'Er. What did you think of the concert, then?'

'What concert?'

'The Snakes concert,' he presses shamelessly, and I manage to turn my livid glare onto the napkin in my lap rather than to Hermione, because she's humming and designing knitting patterns with her wand.

'It was – nice.'

'Yeah?' Harry voice sounds eager, but his face is a mask.

I sigh deeply.

_1:35 PM_

'Ginny!'

Now, see, _this_ is why Divination was my best subject in school.

_1:36 PM_

(Except for that it completely wasn't – my best subject was Arithmancy, actually. And Quidditch Practice, even though that's not a subject).

_1:38 PM_

'Dean!' I call, pretending to look a bit stunned (while actually being relieved – see, actress, eh?), and throw my arms around him in greeting.

He doesn't even seem to mind, just keeps beaming, and then greets Hermione and Harry in turn. 'Would you mind if I –'

'Not at all!' I insist, interrupting him with my voice and my maybe slightly over-the-top-friendly gesturing ... gesture. 'Sit, sit.'

Dean does so, and we talk. About nice things.

_1:39 PM_

Harry just looks annoyed.

_1:42 PM_

I wonder why – it's not _Dean's_ fault Harry is just really bad at making conversation.

_1:45 PM_

'I am really sorry, I've work,' I say suddenly, in the middle of Dean's slightly haunting tale about that time he went to a Muggle Art auction and nearly got stuck with a £300.000 statue of a naked couple.

Dean looks a bit put off as I cheerfully wave goodbye to both him and Hermione, but Harry is, of course, too ill-mannered to let me go, and drags me off towards the men's loos unceremoniously as soon as I stand up.

_1:46 PM_

'I really do have to go, Harry.'

'I kissed you.'

_1:47 PM_

Yeah, thanks for the reminder.

_1:48 PM_

'Look, I know, but –'

'I love you.'

_1:49 PM_

WHAT!

WHAT!!!

_1:52 PM_

You can't spring that on a girl after you've avoided her for three-hundred years and then kissed her only two days ago!

Three.

Four?

_1:53 PM_

All right, so Arithmancy wasn't _really_ my best subject. I hate numbers.

Ancient Runes was all right, though.

_1:55 PM_

'Gin?'

Harry sounds anxious, which is perfectly valid, as I'm gaping at him and spluttering out half words that aren't words at all ('gnargle, gnook, brty, mim').

'But –' I start, quite reasonably (and in English – everyone _note_ the English), and Harry swallows.

'I know. Work. I'll – yeah.'

He leans forward, kisses me once on the mouth, lingers for a bit longer looking like a right prat, and then Disapparates.

**Dates don't change on the same day – so, it's April 3rd**

**Work. Ish.**

_2:05 PM_

Harry _loves _me.

_2:06 PM_

But – but – _why?_

_2:08 PM_

As I'm pondering this very important matter, Malfoy comes out of his office, hair ruffled and a quill sticking out of his sleeve.

I raise an elegant eyebrow in question, but he doesn't seem to notice me at all, just wipes at his mouth.

And out his office strolls Sabrina, who is smoothing out her skirt as if it's all perfectly natural.

_2:10 PM_

I can only gape.

_2:11 PM_

I unintentionally manage to make some sort of choked sound, though, and Malfoy's head whips around so fast, he'll probably have a crick in his neck in the morning.

'WEASLEY!'

_2:13 PM_

Yeah, _fuck you_, it isn't _always_ my fault.

_2:15 PM_

'Fuck off,' I say, somehow angry on Pansy's behalf even though I don't like her at all, 'you're disgusting.'

'Oh, please, Ginny,' Sabrina says in her prim, smart tones. 'It isn't _really_ what it looks like.'

'Which is why you both waited until everyone was out at lunch to do it, whatever it was, of course,' I retort sharply, and Sabrina falls silent, plucking at her sleeve.

'Weasley, you're making somebody else's business your own. Again,' Malfoy says condescendingly.

'Don't you start,' I snap, 'you've been acting like a troll ever since the concert!'

'Concert?' Sabrina repeats thoughtfully, but Malfoy looks riled up. Two highly unflattering spots of red appear on his cheeks.

'That's because some people thought it was prudent to snog Potter in front of me!'

'Yeah, well, people who actually LOVE each other tend to do that, Malfoy!' I shout back, grabbing my robe off the magical coat-hanger (which looks quite disturbed at all the hysteria that is going on, and keeps furling and unfurling its decorating bits) and storming out.

**April. Three. You sort it out.**

**Street**

_2:30 PM_

I can't believe it.

The _nerve_ of him!

_2:35 PM_

I'm not looking where I'm going, in my angry, hissy fit, and I somehow manage to stumble into someone, losing my balance.

'Sorry, I –'

Dean's large brown-green eyes are the first thing I see as I regain my balance, followed by his dark, pretty eyebrows, which are set in a frown, and then the rest of his face follows.

'I thought you had work,' Dean says, and then I can't stop myself – I burst out in tears.

_2:37 PM_

It's so horrid, being a girl.

Something makes you want to just _cry_ all the time.

**Date. Is. April. Third.**

**Dean's Apartment**

_2:43 PM_

Dean Apparates us both to his apartment (a fancy, expensive flat looking out onto a very pretty forest), and I give an embarrassing sort of half hiccup before I start to bawl like I can't think of doing anything else.

Dean lets me – even when I start pouring out all that's happened when I don't even _want_ to (I mean, it's Dean). He makes small, comforting noises and listens, holding me close.

_2:45 PM_

It's really nice, this comfort thing.

**I don't even want to remember – today is a horrid day.**

**Dean's Bedroom**

_4:26 PM_

'I'm really sorry,' I say, my voice hoarse and strange sounding. Dean's trousers feel as if the river Thames decided it should start expanding on the exact spot where my head lies against the fabric.

Dean's fingers thread softly through my hair. 'It's all right.'

'No, I am,' I say, and I sit up to face him properly. 'I'm sorry. I mean, you've probably a billion other things on your mind without me suddenly popping in and telling you my life story.'

Dean doesn't look very different now that I see him up close. He's changed a bit; perhaps grown more into his features, but he still looks like Dean. I can't rightly explain it.

I raise my hand to touch his skin, enthralled, but he either doesn't notice or pretends he doesn't, pushing me aside very gently and smiling that dazzling smile.

'It's all right, Ginny,' he says again, and then continues, 'you probably want a shower, right?'

I nod, and his smile widens, before he leans forward to kiss me softly on the cheek.

'I'll make us some dinner,' he says, and I nod tiredly, my eyes drifting strangely enough to the back of his jeans when he walks out the room.

**Third of April.**

**Dean's Kitchen**

_5:15 PM_

Dean made spaghetti, and after I take the first bite, I suddenly realise how hungry I am.

'It's great,' I say, my left hand fidgeting uncomfortably with the hem of one of Dean's shirts (it has a yellow castle with two hammers on front, the words under it boldly claiming "I'm forever blowing bubbles"), which is about two sizes too big on me.

'Thanks,' he says quietly, and then adds, 'Harry will be here to pick you up after dinner.'

'But I – no,' I say, and feel horrified when tears brim behind my eyes again, as if I've got some sort of ocean hidden behind them. 'I don't want to see Harry.'

Dean doesn't look like he understands, then opens his mouth to protest, but I cut him off.

'I want to stay here with you. _Please_, Dean.'

I realise that I must look pathetic, red hair mussed and wearing a shirt that actually really clashes with my hair (the yellow isn't helping my complexion, either), but I try to convey how desperate I am for someone to stay here and _listen_ to me without commenting with my eyes.

_5:17 PM_

Dean stares at me for a long moment, then sighs and says, 'I suppose you could stay here –'

I'm so relieved, I half-fly over the table to hug him. He freezes for a moment, out of shock, then hugs me back, while I whisper, 'Thank you' to his neck.

_5:20 PM_

And before I properly realise it, I've lifted my head up and then I'm kissing him – and he isn't stopping me.

* * *

**Author's Note: **Yes, well, there's absolutely no need to look at me like _that_. Honestly.

Thanks, as always, to everyone who was so thoughtful to leave a review. They really make me insanely happy and bouncy, like I'm actually secretly still five-years-old in disguise.

Although I do suppose I owe poor sabii-jesusfreak an excuse. Nicking your name was not (entirely) intentional, dear.

Oh, before I get ten billion questions: no, I wasn't too fond of book seven, and I shall very well take my fanfiction thing too Siriusly and ignore a lot of bits in it. Because (1) I don't want to spoil anything for anyone, and (2) I am still very much annoyed with Jo Rowling for certain things. Yeah, just thought I'd announce it and all that.


	10. Of Deadly Purses

**Chocolate Biscuits**

**April 4th**

'_Harry!__ Hang on!'_

_Harry turns to face me, his eyes emotionless, and lacking their usual Harry-spark. It shocks me, a bit, and I adjust my pace, halting quietly in front of him._

'_Gin.'_

'_Hey, what're you lot up to? It's Bill's wedding, you know, you can't possibly leave me alone here with Phlegm's Mum, she's a night –'_

'_Let's break up.'_

'_W – what?'_

'_Break up. Completely. Not ever see each other again.'_

_I'm getting angry now, my eyes flashing. 'Why?'_

_Harry's face doesn't change. _'_Because I lied. I don't love you, Ginny. I never have.'_

_It hurts. It hurts a lot, and my anger turns into something else entirely; something that curls around my heart and squeezes __hard__, disabling my ability to breathe properly. _

_I clench my fist in my dress. My lovely, periwinkle dress that Mum sowed for me especially because I overheard Harry say he liked blue._

'_But –'_

'_Don't make it hard on me, Ginny –'_

'_Hard on __you__? You just said you never had any feelings for me!'_

'_You're Ron's sister. I don't want to hurt him.'_

'_Fuck you,' I spit, and slap Harry across the face. He doesn't look shocked. Ron does, a bit._

Abruptly, I shot awake.

Damn.

It's been a while since I remembered that.

_8__:30 AM, the alarm clock on the night-stand says_

Where am I?

_8__:32 AM_

'Gin? You a'right?'

Dean – _shirtless_ Dean – is hovering over me, hair tousled from sleep and eyes oddly green in the morning light.

**Dean's Apartment**

_8__:33 AM_

_Damn._

Damndamndamn.

I thought that had been a _part_ of the dream.

_8__:34 AM_

'Good morning,' I greet, sleepily, trying to sit up, but Dean kisses me in reply, and before I rightly realise it, I'm kissing back.

_8__:40 AM_

Mhm.

Dean is such a good kisser.

_8__:45 AM_

I'm realising, I'm realising! I'm really late for work!

'Ah, damn, Malfoy's going to kill me –'

'I'll drop you off, don't worry.'

Dean's smile does something really funny to my knees, and I can hear myself agreeing.

**April Fourth**

**Charms Department, Meeting Room #456**

_9__:20 AM_

'Here's fine, Dean, really –'

I don't know what's with him, but Dean made me breakfast and he helped me track down the rest of my clothes in his apartment (my bra was in his aquarium – _cringe_) and insisted on tugging me through the hallway until we're at the place where the Contact Secretary (we've a new one, again) said the meeting was.

Dean flashes me a smile, but doesn't let go of my hand. 'Gin, I said I'd drop you off, didn't I?'

I don't like that smile.

_9__:21 AM_

By _Merlin_.

_9__:22 AM_

Dean sweeps me up in his arms and spells the door open with his wand. At the bang, everybody turns to look, and I flush a bright red. Dean doesn't pay attention to any of the shocked faces, and drops me neatly into my chair.

'I'll pick you up for lunch,' he says, and then pointedly kisses me. He gives a little wave to Malfoy, who's gaping, and closes the door again behind him.

_9__:24 AM_

I can't help but laugh, more at Dean's charming idiocy than at Malfoy's outraged face.

'WEASLEY!' Malfoy eventually splutters, when he's back to normal.

'Ah, sir,' I say, levelly. 'Sorry I'm late.'

'WHAT WAS THE MEANING OF THAT?'

'I believe we were in the middle of something, Miss?' I say, but Sabrina is very bad at taking hints. She's still staring.

'WEASLEY. OUTSIDE. NOW.'

Malfoy tugs me out by my arm, _hard_, and slams the doors behind him. Immediately, everyone begins talking, and I roll my eyes. Gossip fiends, the lot of them.

'Sir, I think we should be getting back to the meeting.'

Malfoy pushes me back, effectively trapping me in one of the nearby alcoves. 'Weasley,' he says, and he didn't even seem to have heard me. 'I really don't get you.'

'Er –' I reply, because what can you say to that, honestly?

'I mean, there you are, Ginny Weasley, girlfriend of the great Harry Potter. Then you change your mind and go for Zabini, who's nothing but money and a good name. Then Smith, a blundering, engaged idiot, and now you're with Thomas, the great post-war portrait painter.'

I glare at him. At least two of those are wrong, the Harry one included. And what business of his is it, anyway?

'I don't get it. I don't get why I –' He leans forward, hands on either side of my face against the wall, and I panic.

_9__:30 AM_

I didn't mean to!

I panicked!

It's NOT MY FAULT!

_9__:35 AM_

Oh, god, Malfoy's _bleeding_.

I think I've killed him.

I shouldn't have hit him with my purse. My purse could be a deadly weapon! The glittery rhinestones could really _not_ be there just for decoration, but for killing purposes!

_9__:45 AM_

I kneel down and sort of awkwardly grab Malfoy's head, laying it atop my jacket. 'Malfoy,' I say, but Malfoy lies absolutely still.

Bloody good help, he is.

'Malfoy?' I shake him, slightly. 'Malfoy? Helloooooooo?'

_9__:46 AM_

Malfoy doesn't move at all.

Even when he's out cold, he's an arse.

'Malfoy?'

_Damn_ him and his inability to be able to take a hit by my purse like a man.

_10__:00 AM_

All right, this is not funny.

Malfoy really isn't waking up.

OhgodIkilledhim.

_10__:02 AM_

I grab Malfoy's wrist and Disapparate.

**Godric's Hollow**

_10__:15 AM_

'HARRY! HARRY, I KNOW YOU'RE HOME, WAKE UP!'

Harry stumbles into the living room some two minutes later, bleary-eyed and half-naked. He probably thinks it's very distracting. It's not.

(Okay, it sort of is).

'Gin? Gin, what are you doing here at arse o'clock in the morning?'

'Harry, I think I killed Malfoy. I didn't mean to, it sort of happened, I mean I hit him with my _purse_ and I didn't think those rhinestones were that deadly but maybe that witch at Magos is secretly a Death Eater and she set me up to kill Malfoy while I didn't even know it, but this purse is seven years old, so she must've been a Seer and she _must've_ known I would give him a smack with it one day –'

'Gin. I can't think with you nattering on like that.'

'– sorry.'

'You – you killed Malfoy?'

'I might've,' I squeak, showing him what's on his carpet.

Malfoy lies there, and bleeds a bit more. Sort of pointedly. Like he's well aware of the distress he's causing me. I resist the urge to give him a swift kick. Honestly. Prat.

'Woah, Gin, what did he do?'

Harry sounds amused, which is not at all appropriate for these sort of occasions, I should think.

'It doesn't matter. You've to help me - fix this.'

'Why?' Harry asks, and crosses his arms over his muscled chest.

'Because … you really like me?' I supply, with a very charming grin.

'He's not dead. I think you've hit his temple, though.'

'But, the bleeding?'

'The rhinestones,' Harry supplies, and gestures to my purse. Four of the rhinestones are broken.

'Oh. Right. I knew that,' I say, and try to lug Malfoy up a bit against the sofa. 'Can I just – dump Malfoy here, then? You'll take care of him?'

'What? No, Gin, I've plans, I can't baby-sit Malfoy –'

_10__:40 AM_

I know it's wrong. I really know. But I'm desperate! I can't have Malfoy showing up at work, firing me - I only need another fifty galleons before I can start my Healer training! That's only this month of work left, and this month is nearly over!

I'm so _close_.

With that in mind, I – I lean forward and kiss Harry.

_10__:43 AM_

'What was that for?' Harry asks, hoarsely.

'Please,' I ask, 'for me.'

'I – I suppose –'

'Thanks, Harry.'

**Ministry**

_11:05 AM_

God, I'm such an arse.

I'm so mean.

I – didn't mean to, I mean, it was wrong and it was manipulative, and I like Dean and I think I'm with Dean, but I love Harry, and Malfoy was just really being a prat, I mean, you were there, you saw!

_1__1:13 AM_

I'm really awful.

I shouldn't have.

_11:15 AM_

'Hey.'

Just what I need. Zacharias waiting for me at my office.

'Gin, have you seen Malfoy?'

'No,' I lie smoothly. 'Why?'

'He hasn't showed up after he tugged you away at the meeting. We had to postpone. Sabrina pitched a fit.'

'Oh. How weird.'

'What did he want?'

'He fired me. Again. I don't think he likes Dean,' I offer, with a smile. Zach smiles back at me. 'It's good you've someone, Gin. Potter and you don't work, you're both too explosive.'

'Thanks, Zacharias.'

**Office**

_11:35 AM_

Hate self.

_11:45 AM_

I'm mean. I'm rude. I kissed Harry.

I kissed Harry, knowing full well he wouldn't be in his right mind afterwards, and thus help me hide Malfoy's body.

I'm a criminal.

_11:46 AM_

I'm worse.

I'm a _Slytherin_.

What I did qualifies as _Slytherin-y_.

Oh god.

_11:49 AM_

The Sorting Hat sucks. It contemplated putting me into Hufflepuff!

Me, evil and conniving Ginevra Molly Weasley, Boy Seducer Extraordinaire!

Well, I'm not really extraordinary.

Or good at seducing.

I'm actually rather bad.

_11:50 AM_

God, I just suck at everything.

_11:52 AM_

How depressing.

_11:59 AM_

'Hey, Gin.'

'Dean,' I say, and I'm too relieved for my own good (it's because Dean likes me. I think).

'Lunch?'

'Yeah, I'd love to.'

**Godric's Hollow**

_3:40 PM_

It's like a gigantic war zone in here. There's furniture everywhere, and a few of the vases Mrs Granger (granted, very ugly ones – I think bad taste runs in the family) gave to Harry for his last birthday are lying in shatters on the floor and near the sofa.

'Harry?' I squeal, in my panic.

'GINNY WEASLEY. I AM GOING TO KILL YOU.'

'Now – er, why would you do that?' I say, jumping a bit as Harry comes out of the kitchen, eyes angry, but still half-naked.

_3:42 PM_

You'd think a bloke would dress.

_3:43 PM_

'Look at it!' He gestures wildly to the living room.

'It was about time you re-decorated?' I supply, lamely.

'Malfoy is in the kitchen. I'm never doing something like this for you again.'

'Well, to be honest, I don't really plan on nearly-killing my boss every day, if that's what you're implying, Harry –'

Harry smiles. 'Just go get him, Gin.'

'Fine, fine. If I must.'

**Harry's Kitchen**

_3:50 PM_

'God, haven't you been causing trouble?'

Malfoy is sitting, bound to a kitchen chair, glaring at me as if I've done him a personal wrong.

_3:51 PM_

The nerve.

_3:52 PM_

'Honestly, Malfoy, you can't even properly die without making a fuss,' I say, while I advance on him.

Malfoy's eyes widen and he tries to scramble away. Which, you know, he can't, since he's bound and all.

'Relax, I was just joking.'

I untie him and dust him off a bit, grabbing him by the arm.

'Thanks Harry, I owe you one!' I shout towards the living room, where sound of glass being put together can be heard over objects zooming over one another.

Malfoy glares some more and leans on me a bit, so I quickly Disapparate.

**Malfoy Manor****, Gate number four**

_4:00 PM_

'Here we are, Malfoy. Home. I suppose.'

The wards at Malfoy Manor are insane. You can't Apparate in even if you live there! You have to Apparate to some sort of weird spot in the garden and then walk the remaining distance.

Guests who try and Apparate in are automatically transported to gate number four, which is where we are now, and a house-elf with an ugly, wrinkled face is glaring at me from where he's sat, on a chair.

_4:01 PM_

Guests must feel so welcome here.

_4:02 PM_

'It's all right, Juanes,' Malfoy says, startling me. I nearly drop him. 'She's with me. Is Pansy in?'

'Mistress out,' Juanes the house-elf says, with a distinctly Spanish accent.

'Thank you.' Then, Malfoy says something in Spanish, and Juanes tugs us closer and pushes me through the gate.

'Ah, no, that won't be necessary,' I start, but Juanes dismissively hands us a rose.

Immediately, we're transported to the front porch.

'Malfoy,' I say, sort of uncomfortably, as I take in how the manner looks. It's gorgeous in the late afternoon light, with at least a million rooms, by the looks of it.

'It'll be fine, Weasley. Just help me in.'

**Some corridor, apparently near Malfoy's Room**

_4:35 PM_

I help Malfoy in, all right. Then I help him up three flights of stairs and through seventy-five different corridors. How big is this house, honestly? It's that Malfoy knows how to navigate around here; I would've gotten lost and died miserably four times already.

'Just here is fine. I'll get Bitty to bring you back.'

'Er, Malfoy,' I say, as he stands on his own finally and draws himself up to full height. 'I'm sorry I accidentally nearly sort of killed you. I didn't mean to.'

'Weasley, you're fired,' he says calmly, in reply.

I suppose it couldn't be helped. I hadn't expected him to suddenly forget everything.

_4:37 PM_

All right, I sort of did.

_4:38 PM_

'I understand. I am really sorry, sir. Malfoy. I mean. Yeah. I'll just … go now, then. Bye!'

'Weasley?'

'Yeah?' I say, hesitating and turning around.

'You might to wait for Bitty. You'll get lost.'

'Right, yeah, I will, then.'

I go to sit down near a staircase that seems to have materialised from nowhere, my head in my hands.

_4:40 PM_

All right, so I am a Slytherin-y person and I nearly kill people, but I was _good_ at my job. I was efficient and a perfectionist and good, which is why Malfoy chose me, and not Cynthia Bobbins, for instance, even though she's much prettier.

I suppose I'm going to have to find another job, then.

_4:45 PM_

Wow, Bitty is taking an unfortunately long time.

_4:48 PM_

'Malfoy?' I ask, with a raised voice.

The reply comes a while later, and is muffled through the thick door. 'What?'

'Bitty is a house-elf, right?'

'Why?'

'Well, it's just, she hasn't shown up yet, so I was wondering if she was on her way and all, since –'

'ALL RIGHT. YOU HAVE YOUR JOB BACK. NOW GET OUT.'

'Er, Malfoy, that's not what I – I really do want to leave –'

There's a lot of noise and then Malfoy shows up, shirtless, and tugs me into his room. I'm too shocked to see him partially naked (what is it with boys not dressing today? Is this some sort of trend? Oh, oh, if it is, I hope to bump into Margois Benée from the Snakes soon) to do anything as he all but shoves me into the fireplace.

'I_ am_ sorry, Malfoy –'

'Shut_ up_, Weasley,' Malfoy snaps, and throws some green powder in the fireplace. I manage to choke out _Kamiro Gardens_ as the flames well up and Malfoy Manor disappears before my eyes.

* * *

**Author's Note: **It's been a while, I'm quite aware. In my defence, I have nothing other to say than the fact that unrequited crushes suck, and that boys should not be allowed to be this pretty. 

Thanks to all of you who leave a review. It really brightens my day! ♥

Oh, and on a fair note to **MinaPotterUesugi**: thanks for all your reviews, they're quite thoughtful! Oh, and to answer you question (if it was a question): I'm really, _really_ bad at Maths. I think it plans to conspire against me. So I sort - make everyone aware of that fact. A lot.


	11. Of Vanilla Ice Cream

**Chocolate Biscuits**

**April ****17th**

**Kamiro Gardens**

_2:30 AM_

I can't sleep.

_2:34 AM_

This is ridiculous. It's _April,_ for god's sake, it's supposed to be raining buckets but instead, the weather is heaving an identity crisis and thinks it's August.

_2:36 AM_

I swear that is its way of secretly conspiring against me and my newly restarted slightly desperate but fantastic relationship with Dean, who's lying next to me and talking in his sleep.

_2:38 AM_

You know, it would be endearing had he been spouting love sonnets to me, but he's talking about a silk canvas and what sort of paintbrush that requires, so no Jane Austen there.

_2:40 AM_

Oh, _that's_ it. I'm pulling my top off!

_2:45 AM_

This is strangely enlightening.

Sleeping topless is not as distressing as it is made to look in all those novels Hermione reads but pretends not to (yes, I was perfectly able to see that copy of _Sweltering Summer Sun _that she'd hidden in her sock drawer which she thought I wouldn't look in, thank you. I'm not blind).

_2:47 AM_

'Dean.'

Dean mutters something incoherent about today's stock market and turns around.

'Dean. _Pssst_.'

Still no answer.

'Dean. I love you.'

'_What?_'

Dean sits up and switches on the light on his bedside table.

'Oh, fantastic, that wakes you up,' I retort, draping the summer blanket around my chest.

'What? How? Gin, it's fucking three in the morning.'

'Nearly, yes.'

'What do you want?'

'I don't know, _you_ tell me.'

'Gin.'

'I can't sleep.'

'Well, I'm sorry.'

'How very chivalrous of you.'

I catch the look on Dean's face, and sigh. 'I just really can't help but worry; tomorrow's going to be horribly busy.'

Dean leans forward and kisses me so thoroughly I think my brain might have leaped out of my head and taken a holiday to Barbados. I hear it's nice there this time of year.

'Don't worry about it, you'll do great,' he assures me, then turns over and falls asleep on the spot.

_2:50 AM_

Well, fine.

I'm _fine_ without Dean to talk to. I'm independent.

The women's movement didn't need any men to take care of them, right?

Right!

I don't either.

_2:59 AM_

'Deeeeeeeeeeaaaaaaaaaannnnnn.'

No reply.

'DeanDeanDeanDeanDeanDeanDean. Dean. DEAN!'

'_What_?'

'I can't sleep.'

'Insane. You're insane. Insane people should _sleep_,' Dean emphasises.

'But –'

'Sleep. Bed. Now.'

'I'm already in bed,' I respond, cheekily. He gives a tired smile, then rolls over and presses me into the mattress.

'Sleep or I will stay like this the entire night and not make you breakfast.'

I pout.

'I really won't, Gin. Now, go to sleep.'

_7:00 AM_

Hah, Dean made me breakfast.

He _loves_ me.

**April ****17th**

**Ministry of Magic  
**

_7:15 AM_

'This is bizarre,' I tell Cecilia, who's the first Contact Secretary I have spoken more than three words to. That is, possibly, because she is very scary.

'What is?' Cecilia says, and peers at me from over her too-thin glasses, perched perfectly across her nose.

'This. I'm _late_,' I say, confused.

Cecilia gives me a haughty look. 'So I've noticed.'

'Well, where's Malfoy? He's supposed to fire me, then hire me again because he's hopeless without me, and then I'd refuse to come back and we'd do our bit.'

'Your bit,' Cecilia repeats, with a smile that shows she's just barely tolerating my idiocy.

I blink back, and then shrug. 'Right, so, where is he?'

Cecilia goes back to shuffling the papers on her desk. 'Where's who?'

_7:16 AM_

Is she in this conversation or is the wall just exceptionally chatty today?

_7:17 AM_

'Malfoy.'

'Mr Malfoy is not in the office today.'

'Bugger me.'

'_Miss Weasley_, language!' Cecilia growls, and raps with her quill on the desk for extra effect.

_7:18 AM_

Scary, scary woman.

_7:20 AM_

I go to sit by my desk, and stare with interest at the wall in front of me.

I've decided it's brown, by the way.

I know it looks blue, but that's only because of the ink from the inkwell I might or might not have thrown at Malfoy's head my first week here.

_7:35 AM_

'Miss Weasley,' Cecilia rasps sharply, '_why_ aren't you working?'

I stare incredulously at her. 'Because Malfoy always tells me what to do.'

'And?'

'And,' I say, starting to get annoyed, 'Malfoy will kill me if I attempt to do something he hasn't planned five months in advance. You've obviously not been here very long.'

She gives me a withering stare and I give her one back.

_7:40 AM_

We still haven't stopped.

I think I'm winning.

_7:50 AM_

Hah! HAH!

She blinked. I wonnnnnnn.

_7:52 AM_

This really is ridiculous.

I can't work when Malfoy's not here.

_7:54 AM_

'_Where's_ Malfoy?'

'Miss Weasley, I'm busy writing a letter to Miss Parkinson.'

'Oh, oh, you can ask _her_ when Malfoy is,' I suggest, very helpfully.

Cecilia's mouth twists into the most unpleasant form it has ever taken on. I mock her look when she goes back to her writing, and wander out of the office, into the hallway.

**April 1****7th**

**Department of ****Magical Creatures and Plants**

_8:15 AM_

'Hello, Nev,' I greet.

Neville starts, but stands up and comes over to the other side of the desk, giving me an awkward hug.

Yeah, he's never been too good at the hugging part.

'Aren't you supposed to have lessons today?' I ask, curiously.

'No, it's my day off; got Collins to cover for me. Children are _exhausting_. I can't believe we were actually that much of a pain,' Neville replies, while gesturing for me to sit while he gets us both some tea.

'We were probably worse,' I tell him, with a smile.

Neville gives a polite laugh and frets a bit with his pen before starting on his cup of tea.

'What's the matter?' I ask, putting the cuppa he made me back on the desk (after that incident with the dung beetle and the brown sugar, I always avoid drinking tea in this department) while trying not to appear to be too obvious about it.

'Well. It's Hannah.'

'Hannah?'

'Hannah Abbott. My girlfriend.'

'Oh, that Hannah.'

'I don't think you know any more Hannahs.'

'Is Hannahs the plural?' I ask, furrowing my brows. 'That's weird. Does that mean it's Nevilles, too, or –'

'I've asked her to marry me.'

I am completely shocked for a moment.

'Nev, that's lovely. Co – Congratulations.'

Neville visibly slumps, and I give a curious look. He puts his tea down and sighs.

'She hasn't said anything.'

'About the wedding?'

'About the _proposal_,' he says, and rests his face in his hands, elbows on the desk. 'I can't believe I read the signs all wrong, I thought it would be the right thing to do, seeing as she's pregnant and all –'

_8:20 AM_

Woah. Woaaahhhh.

Pregnant?

Sex? Neville?

_Ew_.

_8:22 AM_

Er. I mean that in a completely nice Neville-Is-My-Friend sort of way.

Right.

_8:24 AM_

'P – Pregant. Wow. Er. And she really hasn't said anything?'

'No. She went to work and I think she's been sleeping at a friend's, but I'm not sure and it's all such a mess.'

He looked completely put out.

'Awh, Nev, I'm sorry.' I pat his arm consolingly.

He pats my hand in an absent-minded matter, then looks down at it and back up at me. Then a very hopeful look starts to spread across his face.

_8:25 AM_

Oh no.

_8:26 AM_

'No. No, no, no, absolutely not.'

'But you could talk to her,' Neville says, hopefully. 'You've got the same ... bits and all.'

_8:27 AM_

_Bits_?

And Neville had _sex_ with Hannah?

_8:29 AM_

At that exact moment, a speed delivery owl zooms up to me.

SAVED! YES!

I mutter something very consolingly to Neville and pat his arm some more. Neville looks like he's about to kill the delivery owl.

_8:30 AM_

Awh, he can't, it's such a sweet little thing! Look at the way it's hooting! All happily and proud that he's gone and delivered this to me all on time and – **bloody** – _ow!_

_8:31 AM_

Nasty, vicious little bird, what the hell is wrong with you?

_8:34 AM_

After decidedly _not_ tipping that aggressive little owl, I read the letter.

_Gin,_

_Please get home whenever you can. I know you're up to your ears in work, but I think you'd really like to be home and get prepared._

_Love,_

_Dean_

_8:36 AM_

Eh? What's _that_ all about?

_8:57 AM_

'I'll be back before lunch,' I tell Miss-Irritating-Secretary and she gives me another withering look, but I ignore her.

Honestly, what is it with people and not liking me today?

**April 17th**

**Kamiro Gardens**

_9:04 AM_

I pop into the middle of the living room with a sharp _crack, _and look around me. That's odd. The apartment smells a bit like vanilla-flavoured ice cream.

I _hate_ vanilla-flavoured ice cream.

Dean loves it and would probably have a torrid love affair with it, were it not for the fact that it melts. He was rather heartbroken when I pointed that out.

_9:05 AM_

Though, not so much when I was quite drunk in fifth year and spilled a lot of it down my top.

_9:06 AM_

One of my sadder moments, I'm afraid.

_9:07 AM_

'Dean?' I ask, poking my head into the kitchen. It's empty. A quick knock on the freezer and it tells me in a short wheezy voice that no, we haven't got any vanilla ice cream and would I very kindly please stop asking that every day?

_9:08 AM_

Snorting, I apologise to Emily (the freezer) and store the information for when I need to torment my lovely, handsome, vanilla-obsessed boyfriend.

I shrug off my coat and make my way towards the back of the apartment, which is Dean's painting studio thing.

He's fiercely protective of it. His studio, I mean.

He even _named_ it.

_9:0__9 AM_

Which, you know, would be all right (Dean names _everything_ in the apartment) if it weren't for the fact that he chose to name it "Harriett".

Harriet. Harry? Am I the only one who makes that connection?

_9:10 AM_

'Dean? Dean, what was that owl about, it's really –'

The scent of vanilla is alarmingly overwhelming and I suddenly realise exactly what is going on. I stand rather stupidly with my hand on the glass studio door, which is filled with Dean and Dean's – oh god -

_9:1__1 AM_

Dean's _mum_.

He _worships_ his mum.

His mum _hates_ anything and everything that doesn't resemble Dean.

_9:13 AM_

She particularly hates _me_.

Yeah, I'm not quite sure why, either.

_9:14 AM_

I turn around noiselessly and start to sneak away.

You know, the trick with that is to turn your heel sideways and then sort of slide it forward. It's brilliant; no one _ever_ notices that you've snuck up and have been standing there for half an hour listening to them discuss whether you look prettier during or _after_ Quidditch practice.

_9:15 AM_

Personally, I vote for after, because then I've showered.

_9:16 AM_

Harry agreed.

_9:1__7 AM_

'Well, see you haven't got rid of _her_ yet,' Dean's mum sniffs disapprovingly.

_**Damn**_**.**

_9:18 AM_

'Hello, Mrs Thomas,' I say, turning around and entering the studio. I also put on my so-lovely-to-see-you-face, something all Ginnys (Ginni?) are automatically equipped with.

That is, if they've ever met Mrs Thomas.

'I didn't really ask for you to speak, did I?' Mrs Thomas says, just on the edge of polite and pleasant.

Dean smiles a bit uncomfortably. Although he likes his mum, he isn't completely blind and tends to notice the intense, hateful stares she shoots in my general direction.

Such a clever boy.

'Let's have a look, then,' Mrs Thomas continues. 'Last time I saw you Ginny, you were a scrawny little thing.'

_9:19 AM_

Urgh, I know. Thank _Merlin_ I grew out of that.

_9:20 AM_

'I see you haven't grown out of that yet. Dean, love, don't you think it's time for you to get a proper girlfriend?'

'No, mum.'

Bless. I love you too, Dean.

_9:21 AM_

'Well,' Mrs Thomas says then, not at all thrown, 'just don't do any of your silly wand-waving around me, dear. It's disgusting.'

I suppress the urge to remind her of the fact her son is magical, too.

She turns to Dean. 'Now, won't you show me how you've redone the living room? I've been anxious to see it. And afterwards, you can help me sort out the guest room. It's atrocious; you can't expect your darling mother to sleep like such a commoner.'

And out she glides.

_9:22 AM_

It looks very elegant.

_9:23 AM_

I wonder if she would teach me. I'd look lovely all the time, then!

_9:25 AM_

Wait.

WHAT?

_9:26 AM_

'Your mum's _staying with us?_'

Dean throws me his I-know-I'm-sorry-look, which is _never_ good.

'For how long?' I ask. My voice reaches a pitch at the end of that sentence that isn't entirely human.

Dean holds his hands up as a sort of peace offering, gesture thing.

'Just a week. They recently painted her place and she has nowhere else to go.'

He throws in his pleading look. Oh, I _hate_ that look! It just always makes things WORSE -

_9:27 AM_

' – all right, fine,' I concede. 'But you owe me _so much sex_ after this, Dean Thomas.'

Dean gives a cheeky grin as he slides up to me, slipping his arm around my waist to bring me closer and –

- Mrs Thomas pokes her head around the door and gives a sweet smile. 'I don't have all day, you know. And Ginevra, be a darling and go fetch my luggage? It's all downstairs; I couldn't very well carry it _all_ up by myself, a woman of my age.'

After a giggle (that should win an award for being secretly malicious) and another one of Dean's I-know-I'm-sorry-looks, they're gone.

_9:29 AM_

This is going to be _hell_.

* * *

**Author's Note: **I know it's been years, practically, I'm sorry! My life's has been really bizarre as of late, especially on the boy front (poor Gin gets it from me only twenty times as bad) and the school front (pre-law is _busy_!). Besides, this chapter is long-ish, so we're sort of even?

As always, thanks _ever_ so much for the lovely, kind and encouraging words in your reviews!

P.S. Yeah, I proof-read this chapter twice and forgot to upload the proper version the first time D| It's all Aristotle's fault.


	12. Of Changes Made

**Chocolate Biscuits**

**April 18th**

**Kamiro Gardens**

_6:30 AM_

'GINNNNYYYYYYYYYY!'

_6:31 AM_

Bloody hell.

What is _wrong_ with that woman?

_6:32 AM_

'Oh, Ginny!' chirruped Mrs Thomas happily, as if she wasn't screaming her head off at her son's girlfriend thirty minutes before said girlfriend is even _due_ out of bed.

I turn over and bury my head under the pillow.

_6:34 AM_

'Ginny!'

This time, it's short and clipped, and I knew this was a sign Mrs Thomas was about to barge into the bedroom to bodily drag me into the living room. She's done it before.

Next to me, Dean happily snored on. I swear, I have no idea how that boy survived the war while spending half of his seventh year running about in caves.

_6:36 AM_

Not literally, more like he was _hiding _in caves but - oh, you know what I mean.

It's early. You cannot possibly expect me to be sensible when it's early and Mrs Thomas is pretending to be a banshee again.

_6:37 AM_

Where was I?

Oh, right, Dean's ability to sleep through bloody everything. It's absurd; I could throw him off a building right now and he wouldn't even as much as blink.

_6:39 AM_

'Ginny!' Mrs Thomas's voice sounded much nearer now.

_6:40 AM_

Look, I'll pay you.

Small favour! Just – just – throw _her_ off a building.

There are lots and lots of shiny galleons in it for you if you can do just that little thing for me.

_6:42 AM_

I mean, no one would even miss her! Because she hates _everyone_!

_6:44 AM_

'GINEVRA MOLLY WEALSEY, _KINDLY _MAKE YOUR WAY OVER TO THE LIVING ROOM RIGHT _NOW_!'

_6:45 AM_

You could do it! I mean, that wouldn't be suspicious at _all_.

_6:46 AM_

I vote for just tossing her off the Historical Preservation and Magical Analysis tower in the Ministry.

Nothing interesting ever happens there, anyway.

_6:50 AM_

I lugged myself out of bed and made my way to the living room. I'm wearing one of Dean's t-shirts and a pair of shorts. When I entered, Mrs Thomas threw me a look that suggested I might as well have not worn anything, for I look like a goblin.

_6:53 AM_

That woman can say so much without actually saying anything.

_6:54 AM_

I opened my mouth to mention I'd planned on taking a shower first, but closed it again. Polite. I could do polite. Dean had asked, hadn't he? Small favour.

'Something the matter, Mrs Thomas?' I asked in my politest voice of polite politeness.

'Give us a hand, the sofa needs to be moved,' Mrs Thomas said.

She gestured to the sofa that sat harmlessly in the corner of the living room, not bothering anyone (Dean named it Geraldine).

I blinked at her. 'But, it looks fine. Dean and I put it there.'

'Exactly why it needs to be moved,' Mrs Thomas chirruped, smiling.

I smiled back and said, equally sweetly, 'I'll be right back.'

_7:13 AM_

'Dean,' I said.

Dean, who had miraculously slept through all of the shouting, made a discontented sound and waved his hand in my general direction. In Dean World, that meant _kindly piss off_.

'Dean, can I kill your mother?'

'Why?' he asked, sleepily.

'Because I hate her?'

'Gin,' he murmured, 'we've talked about this. Mum likes you.'

I made my way over to the bed and flopped back onto it. The mattress bounced with my weight and Dean grunted and peeked out at me from under the covers. I looked at him and felt my anger lessen.

'Dean, I know you like to think this is a world full of people who like each other, but never, in a million years, will your mum like me. She hates me. Really, _really _hates me.'

Dean blinked, pouted a bit and then threw the blankets over me. I squealed as he pulled me closer.

'Shush, woman, I'm trying to sleep,' he whispered in my ear. I shivered, but gave him a look, pulling the blankets off us.

'Dean, I'm serious. Your mum is driving me mad. We've redecorated the entire flat about six times in the last three days. She's made me re-paint the guest room _twice_. I've had to cook.'

'Gin, it's only for four more days. Mum, she does like you. She just doesn't trust people.'

'I'm sorry, have you _met_ your mother?' I said, but knew I shouldn't push any further, because Dean had that look about him that he only gets when he's read a review about one of his paintings that wasn't very flattering.

I sighed and slumped down on the bed. Dean nuzzled my neck and pressed a kiss to the side of my face.

'I'll tell mum we like the sofa there.' I turned to look at him and he gestured at the door with his head. 'Go to work, you'll be late.'

I sighed, leant over to kiss him, and started dressing.

* * *

**April 18th**

**Charms Department**

_7:30 AM_

'Weasley,' said Malfoy, with an air of disappointment, upon spotting me.

'Yes, still here, I'm afraid,' I responded, though with far less enthusiasm than usual. Malfoy looked at me over the rims of his glasses and I sighed, plopping into one of the chairs in his office.

_7:33 AM_

Those chairs are actually really comfortable, you know. If it weren't for the fact that I hated Malfoy and everything he stood for, I'd've liked them.

_7:35 AM_

I got out my parchment and quill and waited for his instructions. Malfoy took off his glasses and looked at me.

'Weasley, what's the matter?'

'Nothing,' I responded, offended that he should ask. 'Can we get on with the work?'

'You're distracting,' Malfoy said.

'Shut up, Malfoy,' I responded.

_7:37 AM_

Oi. Hang on.

_7:39 AM_

'Malfoy?' I asked. Malfoy's bent over his work, scribbling down something with his quill. He looked up at me, eyebrows raised.

'Yes?'

'You weren't in the office yesterday,' I observed.

'Well-spotted,' Malfoy responded dryly.

'I couldn't get any work done,' I informed him. His eyebrows rose a bit higher, and I added, giving him a cross look, 'Because you hadn't left my planning on my desk like you were supposed to.'

'Your planning was on my desk,' Malfoy said, looking unimpressed.

'You told me that if I entered your office without your permission again, you'd cut my hand off,' I offered.

'That was a joke, Weasley.'

'Was it?' I asked.

Malfoy eyed me distastefully. 'You're to write up the notes for the last three meetings and put them on file; I want you to contact Dickson from MLE for the legal documents on the Engorgement Charm. And here is the rest of your planning,' Malfoy said this all very quickly and I noted them down, accepting the parchment he was holding out without looking up.

Or rather, the parchments.

_7:47 AM_

'What?' I demanded. 'Malfoy, this is more than five pages of work.'

'There's another meeting in three hours and I need you to be done by then,' Malfoy carried on, oblivious to my protests.

'What?' I asked, baffled. He's never set this much work. Never. He's one for planning and being thorough, not for asking me to be done with fifty jobs within three hours.

'Out of my office, Weasley,' Malfoy said.

'R-Right,' I responded, so utterly bewildered by his change in attitude I left without even making a joke at the expense of his unfortunate new curtains.

* * *

**April 18th**

**Charms Department**

_10:30 AM_

I'm dying.

_10:32 AM_

Still dying.

_10:34 AM_

Dying, dying, dead, that's me.

_10:36 AM_

I'm done.

With the jobs.

_10:45 AM_

All of them.

Hundred jobs.

A hundred jobs.

_10:47 AM_

Hundred.

_11:00 AM_

And now it's time for the meeting. Lovely.

* * *

**April 18th**

**Charms Department**

_12:00 PM_

Last I checked: still dying.

_12:14 PM_

Dead, dead, dead, dead, dead, dead, dead.

_12:45 PM_

YES, IT'S LUNCH!

Exclamation mark!

* * *

**April 18th**

**My desk, Charms Department**

_1:40 PM_

Eh? What is Mary crying for?

_1:45 PM_

Mary got fired.

Oh, dear.

Poor Mary.

_1:50 PM_

I mean, I didn't know her very well, and I don't really know what exactly she did around the department – I always figured Malfoy kept her around for decorative purposes only – stretch – do it but that doesn't mean I wanted her to get fired.

_2:00 PM_

Gone into Malfoy's office. It's empty. So far I haven't lost a hand, but this doesn't explain why Mary's gone. I tried to ask Cecilia, but she was nowhere to be seen.

_2:10 PM_

What the -

Cecilia's packing her things.

_2:15 PM_

'What the bloody hell is going on?' I asked Cecilia.

She sobs in my direction and then shoulders past Malfoy, who appears in the doorway quite unruffled, as if he hasn't just fired half the department.

One of Ceclicia's quills, which floated out of the small bag she brought to work every day, attempted to take Malfoy's life. Only Malfoy sort of noticed and made it explode and then strode into his office, all purposefully.

'What are you up to?' I demanded, storming in after him.

Malfoy just looked tired, and didn't respond.

'You can't fire all the secretaries! You need them –'

'I'm attempting to care about what you say Weasley, but it's just too much effort. Out,' he says.

'No!' I said. 'You have to tell me –'

Malfoy's slammed his hands down upon his desk with enough force to make me wince. 'Weasley,' he said, calmly. 'You are not telling me how to run this department. Contrary to your thick-headed beliefs you are my _secretary_, and you were only the brightest out of a collection of truly idiotic candidates at that. You will go prepare the meeting, _quietly_, or I will have to take action.'

He leant forward. 'And mark my words Weasley, when I take action, you won't be working at St Mungo's – or anywhere else for that matter – for the rest of your _miserable_ life. Now get _out_,' he spat.

I opened my mouth to reply, then thought better of it. I nodded made my way out of his office, closing the door behind me. Blimey, when Malfoy truly lost it, he was _scary_.

* * *

**April 18th**

**Conference Room 34, Charms Department**

_3:15 PM_

'I would like to round off the meeting,' Malfoy was saying, and I was scribbling diligently beside him. 'Was there anything else in dire need of addressing?'

Everyone shook their heads and some vaguely murmured negations. Malfoy officially declared the meeting over and people were starting to collect their belongings.

'One last thing,' Malfoy interrupted. 'Starting tomorrow, I will be leaving my position as Head of the Charms Department. Thank you for your time.'

There was a moment of silence and then a bright burst of commentary. Sabrina stared at Malfoy with round, shocked eyes. Zacharias looked like someone had misfired a Freezing Charm at his face. Malfoy cleared his throat.

'Quiet,' he said icily. 'If you have any questions, you may submit them to Weasley and she will owl them to me. It was a pleasure working with you.'

He placed unnecessary stress on the word "pleasure", which made me think he didn't really think it very pleasurable at all. He bows, shortly, and then leaves the room. People start murmuring amongst themselves and amid the chaos, I slipped out and followed Malfoy.

He was in his office when I found him. 'Malfoy,' I called. Malfoy didn't look up. 'I – is there anything wrong?' I managed, though a bit awkwardly. 'I could – help.'

'I'm getting married in a week,' Malfoy said tonelessly. 'My mother is losing her memory; my father is in Azkaban, still. I have been asked to resign my position as head of my department. And I'm in love with -' He shook himself and said shortly, '- no, Weasley, you can't help.'

'Congratulations,' I offered quietly. Malfoy looked up at me. 'For the wedding.'

'Thank you,' he said. I nodded and turned to go. I stopped and looked back at him. Our eyes met. 'For what it's worth, I think you were brilliant.'

The corner of his lip turned up briefly. 'Goodbye, Weasley.'

* * *

**April 18th**

**Kamiro Gardens**

_4:15 PM_

'Babes?' I called, when I entered the flat. Over at the window, a little black delivery owl was pecking at the glass. I let it in, offering it a couple of Sickles in exchange for _The Evening Prophet_.

_War Hero To Marry Girlfriend_, it read. I paused for a moment, pushing past the window lock and nearly falling three stories out due to my shock. I realised three paragraphs in that, fortunately, it was about Neville.

'Gin?' Dean called, and then walked into the living room. He smelled of paint and kissed my cheek. It took me a moment to realise exactly why I have had absolutely no trouble navigating around the flat.

Our furniture is gone.

_4:18 PM_

'Dean,' I managed. 'Where are all my things?'

Dean looked kind of uncomfortable. 'Mum sort of -' he paused, noticed my look, and gave what was apparently meant to be an encouraging smile. '- sold your furniture?'

'_What_?'

'She thought it didn't match the new wall paint.'

'Only because she changed the colour fifteen billion times!' I shouted. '_God_, your mum is a fucking _nightmare_.'

'Gin,' Dean said crossly, 'don't -'

'Don't _what_, Dean?' I demanded. 'Talk badly about her, the way she has been doing about me since the moment we met? Tell her I don't want to redecorate, which you let her do five times anyway? Complain about the fact that she _sold my sodding furniture that belonged to my grandmother_?'

'Gin,' Dean protested.

'My grandmother is _dead_, Dean,' I told him. 'I got that wooden chair and that cherry-wood bookcase because I was her favourite grandchild. Where is your mother?'

'She's gone to get new furniture,' Dean said.

'Oh, that is just spectacular,' I said. 'Really. Fantastic.'

'Would you stop?' Dean said, a tinge of irritation to his voice. 'You've been on her case ever since she got here!'

I looked at him, shocked. 'What? She's been badgering me about not being good enough for you since the -'

'She cares about me, all right!' Dean said, raising his voice. 'I'm the only magical child she has and she's afraid I'm going to leave her too, like Dad!'

'You're not your dad,' I said. 'You're not going to leave her. I'm not taking you away from her. I'm your _girlfriend_.'

'Shut up!' Dean shouted. 'You don't know anything!'

'Stop shouting!' I shouted back.

'You think I have it easy?' Dean demanded. 'At least you have a family!'

'None of us have it easy, Dean,' I said. 'I'm here to love you; I'm not trying to take you away from your mum!'

'I think you should go,' Dean said, quietly.

'I think you should get me my stuff back,' I responded coolly.

'I want you out of here by tomorrow,' Dean said.

'Fine,' I said angrily, my cheeks flushed and I Disapparate to Luna's house with a sharp crack.

* * *

**April 19th**

**A lot of commotion, entrance of the Charms Department**

_08:00 AM_

Ngh bugger – what sort of impression do you think I will make if I turn out to be late to the very first day with the new Department Head? Awful! He'll fire me!

_08:01 AM_

I mean, obviously it wasn't my fault, because I'm sure Malfoy said horrid things about how horrid I was, even though I wasn't and I did most of it for his own good, and obviously because Dean tossed me out yesterday because we had that fight about his demented mum and I Apparated in at Luna's place while she and whatshisface were in the middle of, well, something, but she allowed me to stay anyway and I slept on the sofa, which isn't stuffed with anything but air because Luna believes that furniture has _feelings_, so of course I slept horribly badly and I look a right mess and -

_08:03 AM_

_'_Can you see him?' someone whispered.

'No, can you?' another said, standing on his tip toes.

'What's all this about?' I demanded, pushing my way through the flurry of people to get at the front. There was the Minister for Magic, Gobblynook (an unfortunate name for an unfortunate man), and he was stood on a stage of sorts, speaking to people right and left. I strained to hear what he was saying, despite the Sonorus he'd obviously performed earlier (poor Gobblynook was a bit bad at magic).

'- and it is with great pleasure that I am announcing to you all today that Harry Potter has accepted my offer and will be operating as Head of the Charms Department as of today!' Gobblynook announced.

_08:05 AM_

Oh bloody hell.

* * *

**Author's Note: **DUN DUN DUN.

I've always wanted to do that. Anyway, I'm _sorry! _Stupid life getting in the way. Have a new chapter to make up for it. I missed Ginny lots and lots. She was around, though, tossing staplers at my head whenever I didn't manage to write something about her.

Don't you hate Mrs Thomas? She's such a cow. Thanks for all your reviews, babes. They were fab.

PS. **Hoey, **it's a surprise~


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